➾ summary: jeon jeongguk has annoying little brother energy™. you know this deep in your bones. wedding after wedding, you keep running into him at the goddamn singles’ table, and he just won’t leave you alone. until you start to wonder… is he your ticket out of the lonely hearts club?
tdlr: enemies to lovers
➾ warnings: hate sex, public sex (in a photobooth lmao), impregnation role play, oral (f receiving), jk has intensely annoying energy, it gets unbearably cheesy towards the end
➾ a/n: wow, addie is back???? finally??? gosh, even I can’t believe it. please enjoy, and thank you for waiting :)
➾ summary: jeon jeongguk has annoying little brother energy™. you know this deep in your bones. wedding after wedding, you keep running into him at the goddamn singles’ table, and he just won’t leave you alone. until you start to wonder… is he your ticket out of the lonely hearts club?
tdlr: enemies to lovers
➾ warnings: hate sex, public sex (in a photobooth lmao), impregnation role play, oral (f receiving), jk has intensely annoying energy, it gets unbearably cheesy towards the end
➾ a/n: wow, addie is back???? finally??? gosh, even I can’t believe it. please enjoy, and thank you for waiting :)
─── IT'S JUST A CLUNK OF METAL! ✧･ﾟ he watched her often, in the little window across from his shop. she danced, she sang, she twirled around the shop like a fucking disney princess and he loved it, he yearned to be near her. and on one particular day, when the snow and wind howled outside; he got his wish. the beautiful florist across the street needed him, and he'd help her in more ways then one. ꕤ⠀ՙ
🔩 *◞ jeon jungkook x f ! reader ﹐☆ mechanic jungkook & florist reader snowed in trope sweet reader lowkey pussy drunk jungkook obsessed jungkook smut sex on a car oral (f. rec) fingering choking spitting edging chain kink unprotected sex dirty talk ➜﹒minors do not interact
▹ word count ✶﹐12.5k
The garage door was rolled down tight against the biting winter wind, its heavy metal frame rattling every few seconds as another gust slammed into it. Only the small rectangular window cut into the steel offered a framed glimpse of the world outside— a blurry, swirling canvas of white and gray where snow whipped sideways in furious sheets. Inside the mechanic shop, the air was thick with the sharp, familiar scent of motor oil, burnt rubber, and warm metal. The overhead heaters hummed steadily, pushing out blessed waves of heat that battled the cold seeping through the cracks. Fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, casting long shadows across tool-strewn workbenches and half-disassembled engines.
Jungkook stood near the front, rag in hand, absently wiping grease from his fingers as his gaze drifted— as it always did, toward that perfect little window across the narrow street. Your shop glowed like a beacon in the storm.
Soft, golden light spilled from the florist’s wide display windows, turning the falling snow into drifting sparks of amber. Through the delicate glass panes, framed by lush greenery and winter blooms, he could see you clearly. You moved with an effortless grace that made his chest tighten every single time. Tonight you were singing to yourself again. He couldn’t hear the melody over the howling wind and the low rumble of the shop’s ventilation system, save for the distance as well, but he didn’t need sound. The way your lips parted and shaped the words, the gentle sway of your body as you twirled lightly between the potted plants in the window display— it was like watching a private performance meant only for the flowers and the snow.
You held a small, pale green watering can in one hand, tilting it with careful precision as you misted the ferns and delicate winter jasmine that sat proudly in the front. Droplets caught the light like tiny diamonds before disappearing into the rich soil. Your free hand occasionally brushed a stray petal or adjusted a ribbon on a pre-made bouquet, your movements fluid and joyful. Your hair— loose and slightly tousled from the day’s work, caught the warm glow every time you spun, making you look like one of those Disney princesses from the old animated films he used to watch. Innocent. Radiant. Completely unaware that someone across the street was completely, hopelessly captivated.
Jungkook’s lips curved into a small, unconscious smile. God, he loved this part of the evening. The quiet ritual of watching you close up shop had become his favorite part of the day, even if it made his heart ache with a yearning he couldn’t quite name. You were so close, just a narrow street away— yet felt miles out of reach.
He’d imagined walking over there a hundred times: stepping into that fragrant, colorful world, introducing himself properly instead of offering awkward waves from across the road when your eyes accidentally met. But every time courage flickered, doubt snuffed it out. What would a woman like you want with a grease-stained mechanic who spent his days elbow-deep in engines?
“Earth to Jungkook.” A large hand suddenly waved in front of his face, breaking the spell so abruptly that Jungkook startled and nearly dropped the rag. He blinked, heat crawling up the back of his neck as he turned to face Namjoon.
Namjoon stood there in his thick winter coat, already zipped up to his chin, keys jingling in his pocket. His dimpled grin was wide and knowing, eyes sparkling with barely contained amusement. “You’ve got it bad, man. Like, painfully, obviously bad.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted the strap of his messenger bag. “How long are you gonna keep staring at her like a lovesick puppy? It’s been months. Just go talk to her already. Worst she can say is no.”
Jungkook felt his face flush hotter. He tossed the dirty rag onto the nearest workbench a little harder than necessary and waved his friend off with a scoff, trying to play it cool. “Shut up, hyung. It’s not like that.”
“Sure it’s not,” Namjoon laughed warmly, the sound rich and fond. He clapped Jungkook solidly on the shoulder as he headed for the side door, boots thudding against the concrete floor. “Whatever you say, lover boy. Just… the snow’s really picking up out there. Listen to that wind— it’s getting worse by the minute. Don’t stay too late, okay? Lock up soon and get home safe before the roads turn into an ice rink.”
“Yeah, yeah. I will,” Jungkook muttered, already drifting back toward the small window as the side door clicked shut behind Namjoon, leaving the shop quieter than before.
The wind howled louder now, a fierce, mournful sound that made the garage door shudder violently in its tracks. Snow lashed against the windowpane, blurring his view for a moment before the gust passed. Across the street, You were still moving between the plants in your window display, that soft, private little dance continuing as you prepared to close up for the night. The clock on his wall read just past six-forty-five — seven o’clock was creeping close. Soon You’d flip the “Open” sign to “Closed,” turn off the warm lights, and disappear into the storm.
Shaking his head at himself, Jungkook forced his gaze away and turned back toward the old sedan he’d been working on before Namjoon left. The hood was still propped open like a gaping mouth, exposing the engine’s tangled veins of hoses, wires, and metal. He grabbed a fresh rag and his wrench, the cool, heavy tool familiar and grounding in his palm. Leaning back under the hood, he lost himself for a while in the mechanical rhythm— tightening a stubborn bolt here, checking a loose hose clamp there. The sharp, acrid scent of motor oil and coolant mixed with the faint metallic tang of the shop surrounded him, a comforting contrast to the soft, imagined floral sweetness that always lingered in his mind whenever he thought of you.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting harsh shadows across the concrete floor littered with tools and spare parts. Outside, the blizzard grew steadily more vicious. The wind screamed through the narrow street like a living thing, rattling the windows and making the entire building groan under its assault. Snow piled higher against the curb, turning parked cars into soft white mounds. Jungkook tried to focus, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the golden glow across the way— to the way you twirled between your plants like the storm didn’t exist for you.
He was deep in concentration, fingers working carefully around a delicate sensor, when a new sound sliced through the muffled roar of the storm.
A car engine struggling to turn over.
Click… click… click.
The rapid, helpless clicking echoed faintly from across the street— the unmistakable sound of a dead battery or a failing starter fighting against the freezing cold. It came again, more desperate this time. Then, soft curses drifted on the wind. Or rather… the gentlest almost-curses he’d ever heard. “Fudge… oh, come on, not tonight. Please, just…ugh!"
Jungkook froze mid-motion, wrench still gripped tightly in his grease-stained hand. That voice. He’d only caught snippets of it before— soft and melodic when you greeted customers on the sidewalk, warm with gentle laughter when you chatted with regulars outside your shop, the occasional polite “excuse me” when your paths briefly crossed. It was always sweet, wrapped in a quiet confidence that made something warm and fluttery bloom in his chest. Even now, frustrated and battling the bitter cold, you couldn’t bring yourself to swear properly. You said “fudge” like it was the most severe word you could manage, your tone still so endearingly soft and sure.
A slow, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. God, you were adorable. The kind of adorable that made his heart stutter and his stomach twist with yearning. He’d imagined hearing that voice directed at him so many times— saying his name, laughing at something silly he said, the soft sounds of your moans as he moved inside you.
He straightened up quickly, nearly banging his head on the raised hood in his haste. Heart suddenly racing, he peered out through the small rectangular window again, wiping away the condensation with the sleeve of his shirt.
There you were. You had made it to your little silver car parked right in front of your florist shop. The driver’s side door hung open, snow already dusting the dark fabric of the seat in delicate white flakes. You sat half-inside the vehicle, one booted foot still planted firmly on the snowy pavement as if ready to flee back into the shop at any moment. Your thick winter coat was pulled tightly around your small frame, the hood tugged up over your head, but a few loose strands of hair whipped wildly in the ferocious wind. You turned the key in the ignition once more — click… click… click— and let out another soft, defeated sound, your shoulders slumping visibly against the seat.
The storm was intensifying by the second. Visibility had dropped dramatically; the streetlights struggled to cut through the dense, swirling white curtain. Snow lashed sideways, stinging and relentless. Your car clearly wasn’t starting, and you were out there alone in the freezing dark, the temperature plummeting as night settled in.
This was it.
This was his sign— the universe finally giving him the push he’d been too cowardly to take on his own. Jungkook didn’t let himself overthink it this time. His pulse hammered hard against his ribs, a wild rhythm that drowned out the howling wind for a moment. He tossed the wrench onto the cluttered workbench with a loud metallic clatter, not caring where it landed. In one fluid motion, he snatched his heavy black coat from the hook by the side door and shrugged it on hastily, zipping it all the way up to his chin. He yanked a dark beanie over his messy, slightly sweat-dampened hair and shoved his gloves into his pockets, fingers already tingling with anticipation and nerves.
The side door of the shop groaned loudly as he pushed it open with his shoulder. The full, brutal force of the blizzard hit him instantly— like stepping into a frozen whirlwind. Icy wind sliced at his exposed cheeks and neck, snowflakes stinging his eyes and clinging to his lashes. The cold burned his lungs with the first deep breath, sharp and unforgiving. Snow had already accumulated several inches on the ground, crunching under his boots as he stepped fully outside.
He didn’t hesitate.
Jungkook pulled the door shut behind him with a firm click, the sound almost swallowed by the roaring storm, and began making his way across the narrow street toward you. Each step felt heavier than the last, not from the deepening snow but from the wild thud of his heart. The wind howled around him, whipping his coat and threatening to steal the air from his chest, but Jungkook pushed forward, eyes fixed on the small, bundled figure beside the silver car. Up close, You looked even smaller against the storm— delicate and out of place in the raging white chaos, like one of your own fragile winter blooms suddenly exposed to the elements.
Your hood framed Your face, cheeks already flushed a soft pink from the cold, and those strands of hair danced wildly around Your features. You looked... vulnerable. Beautiful. And something deep in his gut twisted with the sudden, vivid thought of how you might look flushed for entirely different reasons— lips parted, eyes half-lidded, that soft voice breaking into breathy little sounds as he...
He shoved the image away before it could fully form, cheeks burning hotter than the wind could cool. Not now, you idiot. Focus.
You turned the key again just as he reached you, another helpless click... click... click — and let out a quiet, frustrated sigh that the wind nearly carried away. When You glanced up and saw him standing there, your eyes widened in surprise, lashes dusted with snowflakes.
“Hey,” Jungkook said, raising his voice just enough to cut through the storm without shouting. He offered what he hoped was a warm, reassuring smile, snow already piling on his shoulders and beanie. “Need some help? Your car’s not turning over, sounds like the battery or the starter’s giving you trouble in this cold.”
You blinked at him, gloved hands still gripping the steering wheel. For a moment you seemed flustered, shifting in your seat as another gust of wind rocked the car. “Oh... um, I’m so sorry,” You said, your voice soft and sweet even through the embarrassment, exactly like he remembered. It wrapped around him warmer than any heater. “I know it’s freezing out here, and you really don’t have to help. I can try calling someone or... or wait it out. I don’t want to bother you.”
Jungkook shook his head immediately, stepping a little closer so the wind didn’t swallow his words. Snow crunched under his boots as he gestured gently toward you. “It’s no bother at all. Really. I’m Jungkook, I own the mechanic shop right across the street.” He pointed behind him through the swirling white, where the faint outline of his garage door was just visible. “Pushing your car over there would be easy, and I can take a look at it inside where it’s warm. You can hang out with me while I work on it, wait out the storm. No sense sitting out here freezing when the roads are only getting worse.”
He watched you process his offer, the way You knawed gently on your bottom lip in thought. That small, unconscious habit made his chest tighten. Your teeth pressed into the soft pink flesh, leaving a faint indent, and for a fleeting second his mind wandered again, wondering how that lip would feel under his thumb, or between his teeth, how You might sound if he kissed you slow and deep until You forgot all about the cold. Soft. You’d probably sound so soft... maybe a little whimper, all sweet and surprised...
He cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts back to the present as You finally nodded, a shy smile breaking through your hesitation. “Okay... if you’re sure it’s not too much trouble,” You said quietly, still sounding a little uncertain but grateful. “Thank you. Really.”
Relief and excitement surged through him, warm despite the freezing air. “Great. Just put it in neutral and I’ll be right back to open the garage.”
Jungkook jogged back across the street, boots sinking deeper into the fresh powder with every stride. The wind fought him the whole way, but he barely felt it now, adrenaline and something brighter buzzing under his skin. He reached the side door of his shop, fumbled with the keys for only a second before unlocking it and slipping inside. The relative warmth hit him like a blessing, but he didn’t linger. Moving quickly to the control panel, he hit the button for the main garage door. It rumbled to life with a low, mechanical groan, slowly rolling upward and letting in a rush of icy air and swirling snow as it revealed the brightly lit interior of the shop.
He stepped back outside immediately, waving toward your car through the storm. “Alright, it’s open! Let’s get you inside!”
Together they worked to push the car. Jungkook positioned himself at the rear, hands braced firmly on the trunk, muscles flexing under his coat as he leaned into it. “You don’t have to help,” he called out to you over the wind. “I’ve got it, the snow’s slippery, just get in and steer if you want!”
But you insisted, shaking your head as You moved to the side of the car, gloved hands pressing against the driver’s door frame. “No, I want to help. It’s my car, the least I can do.” Your voice carried that same gentle determination, and he couldn’t help the small grin that tugged at his lips.
The car was heavy, resistant against the accumulating snow and ice, but with both of them pushing it slowly began to roll forward. Jungkook’s boots dug in for traction, his breath coming in visible puffs as he put real effort into it. You pushed alongside him, smaller frame leaning in with surprising determination, your soft grunts of effort mixing with the howl of the wind. Every time their eyes met briefly through the flurry, You offered a shy little smile that made his pulse stutter. The narrow street felt endless in the storm, snow stinging their faces, wind tugging at their coats, but inch by inch they moved your silver car across the road and up the slight incline into the open garage bay. The moment the tires crossed the threshold, the raging blizzard dulled to a muffled roar outside the rising door.
Warm air from the shop’s industrial heaters rushed forward to greet you both, chasing away the sharp, biting cold that had clung to your coats, your hair, and your cheeks. Snow that had dusted your shoulders and boots began to melt almost immediately, forming tiny glistening puddles on the concrete floor beneath you.
Jungkook brushed fresh flakes from his beanie and shook out his heavy black coat, small droplets scattering. He tried to steady the sudden, wild rhythm of his heart. You were here. Actually here, inside his shop, alone with him, the rest of the world locked out by the raging snow.
“You can sit anywhere you want,” he said, his voice warm and steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. He gestured around the spacious garage with a gloved hand. “Make yourself comfortable. There’s a folding chair right over there by the workbench if you’d like, or the stool by the tool chest. Whatever feels good.”
You nodded shyly, offering him a small, grateful smile that made something bright and warm bloom low in his stomach. “Thank you… again. I really appreciate this,” you murmured, your voice soft and sweet, still carrying that gentle lilt he had admired from across the street for so long.
He watched as you moved toward the old metal folding chair beside the sedan he’d been working on earlier. You brushed a few stray snowflakes from your coat before lowering yourself onto the seat, your posture a little stiff at first, hands resting neatly in your lap as if you were trying not to take up too much space. The overhead fluorescent lights cast a soft, diffused glow over you, highlighting the pretty flush still lingering on your cheeks from the harsh cold outside. Your hair was slightly tousled from the wind, a few damp strands clinging to your forehead and temples. You looked so beautifully out of place in the middle of his gritty, oil-scented world— delicate and bright like one of your own winter flowers suddenly transplanted into a mechanic’s garage. And yet… you fit. Somehow. Perfectly.
Jungkook forced himself to turn away before he could stare too long. He moved to your silver car and popped the hood with a practiced, smooth motion. The metal creaked as it lifted, revealing the engine bay. Leaning in, he examined the components with focused eyes, his fingers moving with familiar ease over cold metal and plastic. The sharp, familiar scent of motor oil, coolant, and rubber filled his nose again, grounding him in the familiar rhythm of work. But underneath it all, something much sweeter drifted toward him— your perfume. Soft, floral, with delicate hints of vanilla, fresh blooms, and something warm and feminine that made his pulse stutter and his thoughts scatter for a dangerous moment.
God… you smell like springtime wrapped in sugar. Like you could bloom right here in the middle of all this grease and metal.
He tried his hardest to stay focused on the battery terminals, checking the connections and corrosion, but his mind wandered anyway. Just for a second. He pictured you right here, bent forward over this same hood, your coat long discarded, back arched beautifully as he pressed up close behind you. The way your soft voice might break into breathy little gasps and moans, sweet, surprised at first, then growing needier as he thrust deep and slow inside you. Your hands gripping the edge of the hood, knuckles turning white, while he whispered filthy praises against the nape of your neck, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your hip. How you might sound when you finally let go— those delicate “fudge” habits replaced by desperate whimpers of his name, your body trembling under him as he—
Jungkook snapped out of the vivid fantasy hard, blinking rapidly as a rush of heat crawled up the back of his neck and settled low in his belly. He cleared his throat roughly and forced his attention back to the engine. Get it together, Jeon. She — you — are sitting right there. Focus.
After a thorough inspection, the diagnosis was simple and clear. He straightened up, wiping his hands on a relatively clean rag, and turned toward you. “It’s just the battery,” he announced gently. “The extreme cold drained it pretty badly tonight. It happens a lot this time of year with older batteries. I can jump it easily with my truck once we’re ready, but…” He paused, glancing toward the closed garage door where the wind continued to scream and rattle the metal. “The roads are way too icy right now. Even if we get the car started, I wouldn’t trust driving anywhere in this mess. Visibility is terrible, and the plows probably won’t come through for hours. We’re probably stuck here for a few hours at least— maybe more, until the storm eases up.”
He leaned one hip casually against the front of your car, trying to look relaxed even as his heart hammered.
You were sitting there looking adorably nervous, hands wringing together in your lap in that sweet, unconscious way. Your fingers twisted and fidgeted, betraying your anxiety even as you tried to keep your expression calm. Your bottom lip was caught gently between your teeth again, eyes wide and uncertain as you processed his words. The sight made his chest tighten with something fiercely protective and warm all at once.
“I’m really sorry about this,” you said softly, huffing out a small, resigned breath that made your shoulders rise and fall. “I should’ve left the shop earlier… or checked the battery before the storm got so bad. But… yeah, I think waiting is the best option. I don’t want either of us sliding off the road or getting stuck somewhere worse.”
Jungkook nodded immediately, offering you a gentle, reassuring smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Hey, no apologies needed at all. I’m genuinely glad I was still here to help. Honestly, it’s no trouble. This is what I do.” He gestured vaguely around the warmly lit shop with one hand. “We’ve got plenty of heat, lights, tools— whatever we need. I can even make some coffee or hot chocolate if you’d like. There’s a mini-fridge and hot plate over there. Beats sitting alone in a freezing car waiting for a tow truck that might not even show up tonight.”
You relaxed a little at his words, your shoulders easing as you gave him another shy, tentative smile. The way your eyes softened when they met his made his stomach flip pleasantly. “Hot chocolate sounds really nice, actually… if it’s not too much trouble,” you admitted quietly.
“It’s not trouble at all,” he replied quickly, maybe a touch too eagerly. He pushed off your car and moved toward the small break area in the corner of the shop, where the mini-fridge hummed softly and a hot plate waited on a cluttered counter. As he filled the kettle with water and searched for the packets of hot chocolate mix, he couldn’t help stealing glances back at you over his shoulder.
You were still sitting there on the folding chair, hands now resting more calmly in your lap, but that faint nervous energy lingered in the gentle way you watched him move around his space. The shop felt smaller now, cozier, the storm outside creating a strange, intimate bubble just for the two of you. Warm golden light, the low hum of heaters, the faint sweet scent of your perfume mixing with the earthy notes of oil and metal… and hours stretching ahead of you both.
Jungkook’s mind wandered again— unbidden, dangerous, and far too tempting. He wondered how long it would take for that adorable shyness to melt away in the warmth. How your voice might change when it wasn’t so polite and careful anymore. How you’d look with your hair messy from his hands, cheeks flushed deep pink for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold outside, and those soft, pretty lips parting around quiet, needy sounds of his name.
He swallowed hard, stirring the hot chocolate a little more vigorously than necessary, trying to ignore the growing heat low in his belly and the way his jeans suddenly felt tighter. “Here you go,” he said gently, walking back toward you with both steaming mugs. He handed you the white one, careful not to spill any as he lowered himself onto the low rolling stool a respectful distance away from your chair. “Careful, it’s hot. I added a little extra cocoa, figured we could use something sweet after dealing with that storm.”
You accepted the mug with both hands, wrapping your fingers around the warm ceramic like it was a lifeline. A tiny, grateful smile curved your lips as you inhaled the chocolatey aroma. “Thank you… this smells amazing.” You took a careful sip, eyes fluttering closed for a brief second in pure contentment. The soft little hum of satisfaction that escaped you made Jungkook’s chest tighten.
For a few minutes, the only sounds were the muffled howl of the wind outside, the steady hum of the heaters, and the quiet occasional clink of your mugs. You both sat in a comfortable but slightly charged silence at first, the storm creating an intimate little world just for the two of you. The shop lights cast a warm, golden hue over everything, softening the usual harshness of tools and metal. Snow continued to pile against the small window in the garage door, but in here it felt almost… peaceful.
“So… how long have you owned the flower shop?” Jungkook asked eventually, his voice low and curious. He leaned forward slightly on the stool, elbows resting on his knees, genuinely wanting to know everything about you.
You glanced up at him, cheeks still carrying that pretty flush from the cold and now the warm drink. “Almost two years now. It was my dream for so long— having a little place where people could come in and feel something beautiful and fresh even in the middle of winter.” Your fingers traced the rim of the mug absently. “I love watching people light up when they find the perfect bouquet or when a plant they thought was dying starts thriving again. It’s… healing, I guess.”
Jungkook nodded, his dark eyes never leaving your face. “I can see that. From across the street, I’ve watched you dancing around with the plants, singing to them sometimes.” He admitted it with a soft, sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry if that sounds creepy. It’s just… you always look so happy in there. Like the whole world outside doesn’t touch you when you’re surrounded by flowers.”
Your eyes widened a little in surprise, then softened with shy amusement. You bit your bottom lip gently— that adorable habit again, before replying, “You noticed that? I didn’t think anyone could see me through the window when I get like that. I guess I forget people are watching sometimes. It’s embarrassing… but also kind of nice to know someone was paying attention.”
The air between you felt warmer, thicker. Jungkook’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth as you spoke, then flicked back up to your eyes. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s… really beautiful. You make the whole street brighter.”
You looked down into your mug, a delicate blush deepening on your cheeks. “That’s sweet of you to say. I’ve noticed you too, you know. You’re always working so hard over here— covered in grease but still smiling when customers leave happy. And you have this focused look when you’re under a hood… it’s kind of captivating.”
Jungkook’s heart stuttered at your words. He hadn’t expected you to admit that. The compliment landed softly, making heat bloom in his chest and lower. He shifted on the stool, suddenly very aware of how close you were sitting now, only a couple of feet apart in the quiet shop.
The conversation flowed more easily after that. You told him about your favorite flowers (peonies in spring, paperwhites in winter), the funny regulars who came in every week, and how you sometimes stayed late just to rearrange displays because it calmed you. He shared stories about ridiculous car repairs — the time someone brought in a car with a family of squirrels living in the engine, or the customer who insisted their “check engine” light was just the car being dramatic. You laughed at his animated retelling, the sound light and melodic, filling the shop and making Jungkook’s stomach flip every time.
As the minutes stretched into an hour, the storm outside seemed to grow even fiercer, wind rattling the garage door like it wanted in. But inside, the space between you had slowly shrunk. At some point, Jungkook had moved his stool closer without realizing it, drawn in by the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your shop and the way you leaned forward when listening to him. Your knees were almost brushing now. The sweet scent of your perfume mixed with chocolate and the faint trace of his cologne created an intoxicating little bubble.
You shivered lightly despite the heat, setting your empty mug aside. “It’s still so cold out there… I can’t believe how fast the storm got this bad.”
Without thinking, Jungkook shrugged off his thick flannel overshirt— the one he wore over his plain black t-shirt and offered it to you. “Here. It’s warmer than it looks. The heaters are good, but sometimes the draft still sneaks in.”
You hesitated for only a second before accepting it, draping the oversized flannel over your shoulders. It swallowed your frame, the sleeves hanging past your hands, but the sight of you in his clothes did dangerous things to his pulse. You looked soft. Small. Like you belonged right here with him.
“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the fabric closer around you. Your eyes met his, holding longer this time. The shy nervousness from earlier had faded into something warmer, more open. “You’re really kind, Jungkook. I was so scared when my car wouldn’t start, but… I’m glad it was you who came out.”
His breath caught. The way you said his name— soft, sincere, sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He set his own mug down and leaned in just a fraction closer, voice dropping lower. “I’m glad it was me too. I’ve wanted to talk to you properly for months. Watching you from across the street… it was nice, but this is better. A lot better.”
The air grew heavy with unspoken tension. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for the briefest moment before returning to his eyes. Jungkook’s heart pounded hard against his ribs. He could see the faint rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers tightened slightly in the fabric of his flannel. Everything felt slower, more intimate, the storm outside a distant roar compared to the quiet electricity building between you.
“You know…” he continued softly, his hand moving almost on its own to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your cheek. His knuckles grazed your skin, warm and slightly rough from work. “I’ve thought about what it would be like to finally be this close to you. To hear your voice without a street between us.”
Your breath hitched softly at the touch, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into it just a little, eyes half-lidded and trusting. “I… I’ve thought about it too,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “More than I probably should have.”
That was all the encouragement he needed.
Jungkook searched your eyes one last time, giving you every chance to stop him. When you didn’t, he closed the small remaining distance between you, tilting his head slightly as his lips met yours in a slow, gentle kiss.
It started soft— tentative and sweet, like testing warm water. Your lips were even softer than he had imagined, tasting faintly of chocolate and something uniquely you. A quiet sigh escaped you as you kissed him back, one hand coming up to rest lightly against his chest. The flannel slipped slightly off one shoulder, but neither of you cared. Jungkook’s hand cupped your cheek tenderly, thumb brushing your skin as he deepened the kiss just enough to pour months of quiet yearning into it, slow, reverent, and full of the warmth that had been building all evening.
Your breath mingled with his, both of you still close enough that the slightest movement would bring your mouths together again. You didn’t pull away. Instead, your fingers curled lightly into the front of his black t-shirt, holding on as if you were afraid the moment might slip away.
You pulled away only for a second, Jungkook’s dark eyes searched yours for only a heartbeat before he leaned in again, capturing your lips in a deeper kiss. This one wasn’t quite as tentative. It was slower, more intentional— his mouth moving against yours with a quiet hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for months. One of his hands slid to the nape of your neck, fingers threading gently into your hair, while the other rested at your waist, pulling you just a little closer on the chair.
You sighed softly into the kiss, a delicate sound that made something tighten low in Jungkook’s stomach. He loved it immediately, that sweet, breathy little noise that escaped you when his lips pressed more firmly. It was needy in the softest way, exactly like he had imagined during all those stolen glances across the street. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, tongue gently tracing the seam of your lips until you parted for him with another quiet, almost surprised hum.
The shop around you seemed to fade even further. The distant roar of the storm became background noise compared to the soft, wet sounds of your mouths moving together and the quickening rhythm of your breathing. Jungkook groaned low in his throat when your tongue shyly met his, the taste of chocolate and warmth flooding his senses. He kissed you harder, more insistently, savoring every little gasp and whimper that slipped from you as the intensity built.
Your hands wandered. One stayed fisted in his t-shirt while the other slowly slid up to his chest, fingers brushing over the thin silver chain that rested against his collarbones. The cool metal contrasted with the heat of his skin. When you wrapped your fingers around the chain and gave a tiny, experimental tug, Jungkook’s breath hitched sharply.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, lips shiny and slightly swollen, eyes dark with want. Your cheeks were flushed a deep pink, lashes fluttering as you tried to catch your breath. The oversized flannel had slipped further off one shoulder, revealing the soft curve of your neck and the edge of your sweater underneath. You looked beautiful, shy, but clearly affected, lips parted and breathing uneven. “You like that?” he murmured, voice rougher than before. His thumb brushed tenderly over your bottom lip. “Grabbing my chain… pulling me closer?”
You bit your lip, that adorable nervous habit making his heart stutter even as heat pooled hotter in his veins. Your fingers tightened around the silver links again, but you didn’t pull yet. Instead, you nodded shyly, eyes dropping for a second before lifting back to his. The combination of innocence and quiet desire in your gaze was devastatingly hot. Jungkook’s lips curved into a small, heated smile. “Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, leaning in so his forehead rested against yours once more. His voice dropped even lower, intimate and encouraging. “Yank on it. As hard as you want. I like it when you get a little needy.”
The shy nod you gave him, small, almost hesitant, but paired with the way your eyes sparkled with newfound boldness— was both incredibly adorable and undeniably arousing. The moment your fingers tightened properly around the chain and gave a firmer tug, pulling his mouth back down to yours, Jungkook let out a low, appreciative groan.
The kiss ignited.
He surged forward, mouth claiming yours with more heat this time. The gentle exploration from before melted into something hungrier, more desperate. His tongue slid against yours in slow, thorough strokes, tasting you deeply as he tilted his head to kiss you at a better angle. You whimpered softly— a needy little sound that went straight to his cock, and he swallowed it eagerly, drinking in every soft moan and breathy sigh you offered.
Your grip on his chain never loosened. Every time the kiss grew more intense, you tugged him closer, the cool metal pressing into the back of his neck as you pulled him in like you couldn’t get enough. Jungkook loved the way it felt, the slight sting when you yanked harder, the silent demand in the gesture that contrasted so perfectly with your shy, sweet nature. It made him kiss you harder, one hand sliding down to grip your hip, fingers digging in just enough to anchor you as he leaned over you on the chair.
The makeout session turned heated fast. Wet, open-mouthed kisses replaced the softer ones. Your soft sounds grew needier— little whimpers and quiet moans that spilled from you whenever his teeth grazed your bottom lip or his tongue explored deeper. Jungkook was addicted to them already. Every time you made that delicate, desperate noise, he responded with a low growl of his own, pressing closer until your knees parted slightly and he could settle between them.
He broke the kiss only long enough to trail his lips along your jaw, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. When he gently sucked at the sensitive spot just below your ear, you let out a particularly sweet, breathy moan that made his hips twitch involuntarily. “Fuck… you sound so pretty,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with arousal. “Those little sounds… keep making them for me, baby. I could listen to you all night.”
Your fingers yanked on the chain again, harder this time, guiding his mouth back to yours in a messy, heated kiss. Tongues tangled, breaths mingled, and the quiet shop filled with the sounds of your growing desperation— soft whimpers, the wet slide of lips, and the occasional needy whine that escaped you when Jungkook’s hand squeezed your waist or his teeth nipped gently at your lower lip.
Jungkook groaned low into your mouth every time you whimpered, the sound vibrating against your tongue and sending sparks straight down your spine. He was quickly becoming addicted to those soft, needy noises you made. Each little whine and breathy moan spilled from you like music, so sweet and desperate that it made his cock strain harder against the front of his jeans.
His large hand, which had been gripping your hip possessively, began to wander with deliberate slowness. He gave you every opportunity to stop him, trailing his palm down the curve of your thigh before sliding it inward. When his fingers finally pressed over the seam of your pants, rubbing firmly against your clothed pussy, a sharp gasp escaped you. Your hips twitched forward involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious pressure even through the layers of fabric.
Jungkook pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you breathing hard in the warm, oil-scented air of the shop. His dark eyes were blown wide with lust, locked intensely on yours as his fingers continued those slow, teasing circles over your core. Even muted by your pants and underwear, the heat and dampness radiating from you made his breath hitch.
“Is this okay, baby?” he murmured, voice rough and low, barely above a whisper. His thumb pressed a little firmer against your clit through the fabric, drawing another soft whimper from your lips. “Tell me if you want me to stop. I’ll stop anytime.”
The warmth of the shop’s heaters wrapped around you both, but it was nothing compared to the fire building low in your belly from his touch. You were already aching, wetness soaking into your panties as his fingers worked you so perfectly. Shy as you still felt, the need was stronger. You shook your head quickly, voice coming out breathy and trembling with want. “Don’t stop… please, Jungkook.”
That desperate little “please” made something primal flare in his chest. Jungkook’s lips crashed back onto yours in a deeper, more claiming kiss, tongue sliding against yours as his fingers rubbed harder, pressing the seam of your pants right against your swollen clit. The wet heat between your legs grew with every stroke, and your soft whines turned higher, needier, spilling uncontrollably into his mouth. He swallowed every sound greedily, loving how your body responded so honestly— hips rolling against his hand, fingers tightening around his chain until the links pressed into the back of his neck.
After several long, heated minutes of kissing and teasing touches, Jungkook broke away again, lips trailing hot and open-mouthed along your jaw and down the sensitive column of your neck. His breath ghosted over your skin as he spoke, voice thick with restraint and raw desire. “Can I take your pants off?” he asked, fingers still rubbing those maddening circles that made your thighs tremble. “I want to touch you properly… feel how wet and warm you are for me. Is that okay, baby?”
Your heart raced, cheeks burning with a mix of shyness and overwhelming arousal. You wanted him— wanted this, so badly that the words slipped out easily, shaky but certain. “Yes… I want you. So bad.”
Jungkook let out a low, appreciative groan that vibrated against your neck. “Fuck, you’re so sweet,” he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your pulse point before pulling back. He helped you slide off the folding chair on slightly shaky legs, his hands gentle yet sure as they moved to the waistband of your pants. With careful reverence, he hooked his fingers into both your pants and panties, sliding them slowly down your thighs together. The cool air of the garage kissed your newly exposed skin, raising goosebumps along your legs as he knelt briefly to pull the fabric completely off, along with your boots and socks. He set the bundle neatly aside on a nearby cluttered workbench, his eyes never leaving your body.
When he rose to his feet again, his gaze was dark and hungry, drinking in the sight of your bare lower half. The oversized flannel you still wore— his flannel, hung loosely off one shoulder, the hem brushing teasingly against the tops of your thighs. You looked breathtaking like this: flushed, shy, and exposed in the middle of his mechanic shop, surrounded by tools and the faint scent of oil and metal. It was such a filthy contrast to your soft, floral sweetness, and it made his cock twitch painfully.
Instead of returning you to the chair, Jungkook guided you backward until the backs of your thighs met the wide, sturdy workbench behind you. It was the perfect height, high enough that when he stepped between your parted legs, your bodies aligned beautifully, his hips brushing against your inner thighs. The flannel slipped further down your shoulder, revealing more soft skin, but you made no move to fix it.
He leaned in close, capturing your lips in another deep, heated kiss before pulling back just enough to ask again, his voice husky and careful. “Can I touch you now, baby? Really touch you… with my fingers?”
“Yes,” you breathed out immediately, the word coming out whiny and desperate, your hips shifting restlessly on the edge of the workbench. Your fingers tugged on his chain again, pulling him closer as need pulsed through you. “Please, Jungkook… I need it. Touch me.”
The needy whine in your voice nearly broke his control. Jungkook’s eyes darkened further, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he slid one large, warm hand between your thighs. His fingers glided through your slick folds, parting them gently and coating themselves in your arousal. “So fucking wet already,” he murmured appreciatively, voice hoarse with awe. “All this pretty slick just for me? You’re dripping, baby.”
He started slow and teasing, circling your swollen clit with two fingers in gentle, deliberate strokes— light pressure at first that gradually grew firmer as your reactions encouraged him. Every slow circle drew another needy sound from deep in your throat: high, whiny little moans and breathy whimpers that filled the warm garage and made Jungkook’s breathing grow ragged. He watched your face the entire time, mesmerized by the way your eyes fluttered half-closed, how your mouth fell open in pleasure, how your head tipped back slightly when he hit that perfect spot.
“That’s it… make those pretty sounds for me,” he praised softly, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his fingers continued their torturous circles. “You sound so fucking needy, baby. I love it. Love hearing how much you want my touch. Keep whining for me like that.”
When your hips began rolling more insistently against his hand, chasing the pleasure, Jungkook shifted lower. He pressed one thick finger slowly inside your tight heat, moving carefully and gently pumping in and out to open you up. The wet, slick sounds of his finger gliding through your arousal mixed with your increasingly desperate whines, creating an intoxicating rhythm that echoed softly in the shop. He curled his finger just enough to brush that sensitive spot inside you, drawing a particularly sweet, high-pitched whimper from your lips.
“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing along your neck and collarbone as he carefully added a second finger. He stretched you slowly, deliciously, scissoring gently while his thumb kept up those firm circles on your clit. The pace remained soft and deliberate, thorough prep rather than anything rushed— but the way you clenched around his fingers and let out those needy, whiny moans told him you were falling apart so beautifully.
Every whimper, every desperate roll of your hips, every soft “please” that slipped from your lips made Jungkook’s own arousal spike higher. His cock was rock hard, pressing insistently against his jeans as he worked you open with patient, skilled fingers. He kissed you deeply again, swallowing your moans while his fingers continued their slow, thorough exploration, curling, pumping, and rubbing until your thighs trembled around his waist and your whines grew louder, more urgent.
The storm outside continued to howl and rattle the garage door, snow piling higher against the windows, but inside this warm, intimate bubble, the only thing that mattered was the way you sounded for him— needy, whiny, and utterly perfect.
Jungkook had no intention of rushing.
He wanted to hear every single desperate sound you could make before the night was over.
Jungkook’s fingers continued their slow, thorough work between your thighs, two thick digits pumping gently inside your slick heat while his thumb circled your swollen clit with firm, precise strokes. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers moving through your arousal filled the warm garage, mixing with the distant howl of the storm outside. Your soft whines had already grown into breathier, needier moans, but he could tell you were ready for more. He watched your face closely, dark eyes drinking in every flutter of your lashes and every parting of your lips.
Testing the waters, he curled his fingers harder, thrusting them a little deeper and faster, the heel of his palm pressing firmly against your clit with each stroke. The change in pace was deliberate, rougher than before, but still careful, watching for your reaction. Your response was immediate and beautiful.
A loud, broken moan tore from your throat as your head fell back, eyes squeezing shut in overwhelming pleasure. Your fingers shot down to grab onto his forearm, nails digging into the hard muscle there as your hips bucked against his hand. “Ah— Jungkook!” The moan came out loud and desperate, echoing softly in the shop. You clenched tightly around his fingers, thighs trembling around his waist as waves of heat crashed through you.
Jungkook’s breath hitched sharply, a low, hungry groan rumbling in his chest. Fuck. He loved every second of it— the way your pretty face contorted in pleasure, the way your voice cracked on his name, the way your body gripped him so greedily. Watching you fall apart on his fingers was quickly becoming his new favorite sight. Your grip on his arm only spurred him on, your nails leaving little crescent marks on his skin that he would wear proudly.
“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, voice thick with arousal as he kept up the rougher pace, fingers thrusting deeper, curling harder against that sensitive spot inside you. “You like it a little rougher? Look at you… falling apart so pretty for me. Moan louder, sweetheart. Let me hear how good it feels.”
You did exactly that. Another loud, needy moan spilled from your lips, your back arching as you held onto his arm like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your hips rolled desperately against his hand, chasing every thrust, every press of his palm. The flannel hung loosely off your shoulders, barely covering anything anymore, your skin flushed and glowing under the warm shop lights. Jungkook couldn’t look away— you were a vision: needy, whiny, and completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you.
But the more he watched you, the more desperate he became. His cock was painfully hard, straining against his jeans, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to taste you.
After a few more rough, deep thrusts of his fingers that drew another loud sob-like moan from you, Jungkook slowed just enough to speak, his voice raw and almost begging. “Baby… fuck, I need a taste. I’ve been dying to know how sweet this pretty pussy is.” His fingers kept moving slowly inside you as he leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear. “Please… can I eat you out? Let me put my mouth on you. I’ll make you feel so good — I promise.”
You were trembling, chest heaving, but the desperate plea in his voice made fresh heat flood between your legs. You nodded frantically, voice coming out in a broken, needy whisper. “Yes… yes, please. I want your mouth.”
The relief and hunger that flashed across Jungkook’s face were instantaneous. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, bringing them to his lips for a quick, filthy taste that made his eyes flutter shut with a deep groan. “So fucking sweet already,” he muttered, almost to himself.
Without wasting another second, Jungkook dropped gracefully to his knees in front of the workbench. The concrete floor was hard and cold against his knees, but he didn’t care— nothing mattered except the sight of you spread open for him. He hooked his strong hands under your thighs, spreading you wider and pulling you closer to the edge of the workbench until your pussy was right at the perfect height for his mouth. The flannel had slipped almost completely off one shoulder now, bunching around your elbows, leaving most of your upper body beautifully exposed.
Jungkook looked up at you one last time, eyes dark and blown with lust, lips slightly parted. “Keep making those sounds for me, baby. I want to hear every single one.”
Then he leaned in and connected his mouth to your core.
The first broad, slow lick from the bottom of your slit all the way up to your clit drew a loud, sob-like cry of pleasure from your throat. Your back arched sharply off the workbench, one hand flying down to tangle desperately in his soft, dark hair while the other gripped the edge of the table. “Oh my god— Jungkook!” The moan came out broken and overwhelmed, tears of pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes from the intensity.
Jungkook groaned deeply against your pussy, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through you. He didn’t hold back. His tongue worked you with hungry, expert strokes, licking broad and flat over your folds, then flicking rapidly against your swollen clit before sucking it gently between his lips. He alternated between long, thorough licks that collected every drop of your slick and focused suction that made your thighs shake violently around his head.
“Fuck… you taste even better than I imagined,” he mumbled against your core, voice muffled and reverent. He lapped at you like a man starved, tongue dipping inside your entrance before circling your clit again with relentless precision. Every sob, every loud moan, every desperate whimper that spilled from your lips only made him more eager. He gripped your thighs tighter, holding you open as he devoured you, the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth working your pussy filling the garage alongside your cries.
You were falling apart completely now. Loud, needy sobs of pleasure echoed around you with every pass of his tongue. Your hips bucked against his face, fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled him closer, grinding against his mouth in search of more friction. Jungkook loved it— loved the way you lost control, the way your usually soft, shy voice turned into these broken, desperate sounds just for him. He hummed and groaned against your core, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that made your toes curl.
He sucked your clit into his mouth again, flicking his tongue rapidly while two fingers slid back inside you, thrusting in time with his mouth. The dual sensation— his hot, wet tongue and his thick fingers stretching you— pushed you higher and higher. Your moans turned into loud, continuous whines and sobs, your entire body trembling as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.
Jungkook pulled back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny and swollen, chin glistening with your arousal. His voice was rough, desperate, and full of awe. “That’s my girl… let go for me, baby. Come on my tongue. I want to feel you fall apart.”
Then he dove back in, mouth working you even more intensely, fingers curling perfectly inside you as he pushed you relentlessly toward the edge. Jungkook’s tongue worked you relentlessly, broad strokes and rapid flicks alternating with deep, sucking pressure on your swollen clit. His two thick fingers pumped steadily inside you, curling against that perfect spot with every thrust. Your loud, broken sobs of pleasure filled the warm garage, mixing with the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth devouring your pussy. Your fingers were tangled tightly in his dark hair, hips grinding desperately against his face as the pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly.
He pulled back for just a moment, only long enough to look up at you with dark, lust-blown eyes. His lips were shiny and swollen, chin glistening with your slick. Without breaking eye contact, he gathered saliva in his mouth and spat directly onto your core— a warm, filthy stripe landing right over your clit and dripping down to your entrance.
The sensation was almost overwhelming.
A sharp, needy cry tore from your throat as the warm spit made contact with your already sensitive flesh. Before you could even process it, Jungkook’s fingers were there, spreading the wetness, fucking his spit slowly and deliberately into your hole. The lewd, squelching sound it made was filthy and intoxicating. He pushed two fingers deep, twisting them as he spread the slick mixture, opening you up even more while his thumb continued teasing circles around your clit.
“Oh— god, Jungkook—” you moaned loudly, the words slipping out broken and desperate. The added wetness, the way his fingers fucked his own spit into you so deliberately, it sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through your body. Your thighs trembled violently around his head, hips jerking involuntarily at the overwhelming sensation.
While his mouth hovered teasingly close, still breathing hot against your core, you couldn’t wait any longer. Your hands moved frantically to the oversized flannel still hanging loosely off your shoulders. You tugged it off completely, letting it pool behind you on the workbench. Next came your sweater— you yanked it up and over your head in one hurried motion, tossing it aside. Your bra followed quickly, unclasped with shaky fingers and discarded somewhere on the floor. The cool air of the shop kissed your newly bare skin, making your nipples harden instantly into tight peaks.
Completely naked now except for the way your body was spread open for him, you palmed at your own tits. Your hands squeezed the soft, warm flesh, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples before pinching and tugging on them gently at first, then a little harder as the pleasure between your legs intensified.
Jungkook’s eyes flicked upward the moment you started touching yourself. His mouth was still on you— tongue lapping slowly at your folds, but his gaze locked onto your hands as they kneaded and played with your breasts. The sight of you squeezing the soft flesh, fingers tweaking and tugging on your nipples, sent a deep, guttural groan vibrating straight against your core.
“Fuck… look at you,” he moaned against your pussy, the words muffled but full of raw hunger. “Touching your pretty tits while I eat you out… you’re so fucking hot, baby.”
The vibration of his groan combined with the way his tongue flicked rapidly over your clit again pushed you right to the edge. His fingers never stopped, still fucking his spit and your slick deeper into you with rougher, wet thrusts. The dual sensation, his hot mouth sucking on your clit and his thick fingers stretching and filling you— was too much.
Your back arched sharply off the workbench, one hand still squeezing your breast while the other tightened painfully in his hair. “Jungkook— I’m— ahh!” The orgasm hit you hard. A loud, sobbing cry ripped from your throat as pleasure exploded through your body. Your pussy clenched violently around his fingers, thighs shaking uncontrollably around his head. Waves of intense heat crashed over you again and again, your hips bucking wildly against his mouth as you came so hard you saw stars. Your fingers tugged harshly on your own nipples, the sharp pleasure mixing with the overwhelming sensations between your legs until you were a trembling, moaning mess.
Jungkook didn’t stop. He groaned loudly against your core, lapping up every drop of your release as it coated his tongue and chin. His fingers kept moving through your orgasm, drawing it out as long as possible while he sucked gently on your oversensitive clit. He watched you the entire time— eyes dark and reverent, loving the way your face twisted in ecstasy, the way your tits bounced slightly with every shuddering breath, the way your loud, broken moans filled the entire shop.
Only when your body started to relax, trembling with aftershocks, did he finally ease up. He pressed one last, slow, open-mouthed kiss to your pussy before pulling back slightly, lips and chin shiny with your cum. His fingers slipped out of you gently, and he looked up at your flushed, blissed-out face with a hungry, satisfied smirk. “God… you come so beautifully,” he rasped, voice hoarse and thick with arousal. His hands smoothed soothingly over your trembling thighs as he rose slowly to his feet, stepping between your spread legs once more. “I could watch you fall apart like that all night.”
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss so you could taste yourself on his tongue. One of his hands came up to gently cup your breast, thumb brushing over your still-sensitive nipple as he kissed you slower, letting you come down from the high while the storm continued to rage outside.
Your body was still trembling with aftershocks, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The warm glow of the shop lights bathed your naked skin, making every inch of you look soft and glowing. Jungkook hovered over you, lips shiny with your release, eyes dark and hungry as he watched you come down from your high. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your thighs, but the thick bulge straining against his jeans told you he was far from done.
“Jungkook…” you whispered, voice hoarse and needy from all the moaning. Your hands reached for him, fingers brushing over his arms and tugging weakly at his t-shirt. “Please… I need you. Fuck me. I want you inside me so bad.”
You didn’t even have to beg.
Jungkook was already planning to bury himself deep inside you the moment he tasted your release. Still, hearing those desperate words fall from your sweet lips made his cock twitch hard. A low, possessive groan rumbled in his chest as he leaned down and kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue again. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured against your mouth, voice rough with restraint. “Been dying to fuck you since the second I got you in here.”
In one smooth motion, he slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you off the workbench like you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he carried you the short distance across the garage to your silver car. The hood was still warm from sitting inside the heated shop. He laid you down gently on the smooth, glossy surface, your back meeting the cool metal with a soft gasp. The contrast of the slightly chilled hood against your overheated skin sent a fresh shiver through you.
You looked absolutely beautiful like this— completely naked, spread out on the hood of your own car, hair fanned out beneath you, flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips, legs parted invitingly. The flannel and your other clothes lay forgotten somewhere behind you. Jungkook stood between your thighs, staring down at you like you were the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen.
“Fuck… look at you,” he breathed, hands smoothing reverently up your sides. “Laying on the hood like this, waiting for me. So fucking pretty.”
He couldn’t wait any longer. Jungkook reached behind his neck and pulled his black t-shirt off in one fluid motion, revealing his toned chest, defined abs, and the silver chain that still rested against his collarbones. The chain swayed lightly as he moved, catching the light. Next came his jeans and boxers— he shoved them down his hips and kicked them aside, finally freeing his hard, throbbing cock. It stood heavy and flushed against his stomach, the tip already glistening with precum.
The silver chain was the only thing he kept on. Jungkook stepped closer, hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider on the hood. He looked down at you with dark, hooded eyes, voice low and husky. “How do you want it, sweetheart? You want me to fuck you slow and deep… or do you want me to pound you hard?”
Your hands slid up his bare chest, palms gliding over warm skin and firm muscle. You traced the lines of his abs, then higher, fingers brushing the silver chain. A shy, almost bashful smile curved your lips as you looked up at him through your lashes. “Pound me,” you whispered sweetly, voice soft and shy despite the filthy words. “I want you to fuck me hard, Jungkook.”
The innocent way you said it— so sweet and delicate, like you were asking for something gentle instead of begging to be railed, made a surprised laugh bubble out of Jungkook. It was low and warm, eyes crinkling with both amusement and raw desire. “Shit… you say it so fucking cute,” he chuckled softly, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. “Say it again for me, baby. Tell me exactly what you want.”
Your cheeks burned hotter, but the ache between your legs was stronger than your shyness. You tugged lightly on his chain, pulling him closer as you repeated, voice still soft and sweet, “Pound me, Jungkook. Please… fuck me hard.”
Jungkook’s laugh faded into a deep, hungry groan. “That’s my girl.”
He wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and tapped the thick head against your soaked pussy. The wet sound it made was filthy. He dragged the tip slowly up and down your slit, letting it catch on your sensitive clit with every pass. Each teasing stroke made your hips twitch and a soft whimper escape your lips. He coated himself in your slick, the head of his cock glistening with a mix of your arousal and his precum.
“Ready for me?” he asked, voice strained with need as he lined himself up at your entrance.
You nodded frantically, legs wrapping tighter around his waist. “Yes— please—”
Jungkook pushed forward. The thick head of his cock stretched you open as he slid in slowly at first, letting you feel every inch. He groaned deeply, eyes fluttering shut for a moment at how tight and warm you felt around him. “Fuck… so tight, baby. Taking me so well.”
Once he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, he paused — letting you adjust to his size while the silver chain dangled between you, brushing lightly against your chest. Then, true to your sweet request, he pulled back almost all the way before slamming back in hard.
The first rough thrust made the car hood creak beneath you and a loud, needy moan spill from your lips.
Jungkook didn’t hold back anymore. He set a punishing rhythm, pounding into you exactly the way you’d asked, deep, hard strokes that made your tits bounce with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the garage, mixing with your moans and his low, guttural groans.
His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place on the hood as he fucked you harder, the silver chain swinging with every powerful snap of his hips. “Like that, baby?” he growled, eyes locked on your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure. “This what you wanted? Me pounding this pretty pussy on your car hood?”
The car hood creaked loudly beneath you with every powerful thrust as Jungkook fucked you exactly the way you’d shyly begged for, hard, deep, and relentless. His hips snapped forward with bruising force, driving his thick cock into you over and over again. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the warm garage, echoing louder than the muffled howl of the storm outside. Your body jolted with each punishing stroke, tits bouncing heavily as you lay spread out on the glossy metal surface.
“Jungkook— oh my god,” you moaned loudly, voice breaking with pleasure. Your hands gripped the edges of the hood for support as another particularly deep thrust made your back arch. “I love your big dick… god, it feels so good—”
“Yeah?” Jungkook growled, voice rough and filthy as he slammed into you harder. “Fucking take it, baby. Take every inch of this big cock like a good girl.”
His words sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through you. He picked up the pace, fucking you faster and rougher, hips pistoning with raw power. The entire car started to jerk and rock beneath you with the force of his thrusts, the suspension creaking in rhythm with every brutal snap of his hips. The silver chain around his neck swung wildly, occasionally brushing against your chest as he leaned over you.
You were moaning so loudly now— high, needy whines and broken sobs spilling from your lips without any filter. “Ah— yes! Harder— please—” Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips to your tits, grabbing them roughly with both palms. His fingers dug into the soft, plush flesh as he used them for leverage, squeezing hard while he pounded into you. He kneaded and groped them possessively, thumbs brushing roughly over your sensitive nipples, pinching and tugging as he drove his cock deeper.
“Fuck, these tits are perfect,” he groaned, eyes fixed on the way your breasts bounced and spilled between his fingers with every thrust. “So soft… bouncing so pretty while I fuck you.”
Your hand slid down your body, fingers finding your swollen clit. You started rubbing tight, desperate circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves, the added stimulation making your moans turn even louder and more whiny. “Jungkook— ahh! It’s so deep— I’m— god!”
The combination of his brutal pace, his rough hands mauling your tits, and your own fingers frantically playing with your clit pushed you higher and higher. Your pussy clenched tightly around his thick cock, slick sounds growing wetter and louder as you dripped down his shaft.
Jungkook was losing it.
He was so pussy drunk he could barely keep it together. His thrusts grew erratic and even harder, the car rocking more violently beneath you. Low, desperate groans and whiny moans spilled from his own throat— raw and broken, nothing like his usual confident tone. “Shit— baby, you feel so fucking good… this tight little pussy is gripping me so hard. Can’t— fuck— can’t stop…”
His head fell back for a moment, eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you with everything he had. The silver chain bounced against his chest with every savage thrust. Sweat glistened on his toned body, muscles flexing as he used your tits as handles to pull you back onto his cock harder. “You’re so loud for me,” he panted, voice strained and husky. “Keep moaning like that, let me hear how much you love getting your pussy pounded.”
You were a mess, moaning loudly, whining his name, fingers rubbing your clit faster as his cock slammed into you repeatedly. The car continued to jerk and creak under the intensity of your fucking, the hood warm against your back from the friction. Jungkook’s grip on your tits tightened, fingers leaving faint red marks on your skin as he used them to drive himself even deeper, hips snapping forward with desperate, animalistic force.
“Gonna— fuck— gonna make you cum again,” he growled, leaning down closer so the chain dangled right above your face. His eyes were wild, pupils blown wide with lust. “Cum on my cock, baby. Want to feel this pretty pussy squeezing me while I fuck you stupid.”
Your moans turned into loud, continuous whines, body trembling as the pressure built unbearably inside you. Jungkook’s thrusts never slowed— hard, fast, and deep, while his hands continued to grope and squeeze your tits roughly, using them to pull you onto his cock with every stroke. The pressure inside you coiled tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.
You came hard for the second time.
A loud, sobbing cry tore from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you. Your pussy clenched violently around his cock, pulsing and fluttering as waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body. Your back arched sharply off the hood, tits bouncing wildly in his rough grip. Your hand flew down from your clit to his pelvis, pushing weakly at the hard muscle there as the overwhelming sensation became almost too much. “Jungkook— ahh! Too much— I’m cumming— !”
But Jungkook didn’t slow down. Instead, one of his hands released your breast and slid up to wrap firmly around your throat. He didn’t squeeze hard enough to hurt, but the pressure was possessive and controlling as he choked you through your orgasm, hips still snapping forward with deep, punishing thrusts.
“Take it, baby,” he growled, voice rough and strained, eyes locked on your face as you fell apart beneath him. “Take my cum. Gonna fill this pretty pussy up. Don’t push me away— take every fucking drop.” The combination of his cock slamming into your spasming walls, his hand around your throat, and his filthy words sent you spiraling even higher. Your eyes rolled back slightly, loud whiny moans turning into choked, broken sobs of pleasure as you came harder around him.
Jungkook’s rhythm faltered as he chased his own release. His thrusts grew erratic and desperate, the car jerking sharply with every slam of his hips. He was so pussy drunk he could barely hold it together anymore. His breathing was ragged, low whimpers slipping from his throat as he fucked you through your orgasm.
“Fuck— baby— I’m gonna cum,” he panted, voice cracking. “Gonna fill you up— shit—”
With a deep, stuttering groan that quickly turned into a soft, broken whimper, Jungkook buried himself as deep as he could go and came hard. His cock pulsed inside you, thick ropes of warm cum spilling deep into your pussy. His hips jerked erratically with every spurt, the silver chain swinging wildly between you as his body trembled. He whimpered again, a needy, desperate sound that made your walls flutter around him— as he emptied himself completely, flooding you with his release.
Only when the last shudder wracked his body did he loosen his grip on your throat. He stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, both of you panting heavily, bodies slick with sweat.
Finally, Jungkook pulled out slowly with a wet, obscene sound. A thick trickle of his cum immediately began to leak from your stretched hole. Before it could drip down onto the car hood, your hand moved between your legs. Two of your fingers pushed into your sensitive, cum-filled pussy, slowly fucking his release back inside you with lazy, deliberate strokes.
Jungkook’s eyes widened, breath still coming in harsh pants as he watched the filthy sight. His chest heaved, silver chain rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath. “Fuck… look at you,” he rasped, voice hoarse and awed. “Pushing my cum back in like such a good girl. So fucking dirty for me.” He couldn’t tear his eyes away, watching your fingers slide in and out of your creamy pussy, pushing every drop of his load deeper while your thighs trembled from the overstimulation. The sight made his spent cock twitch with renewed interest even as he tried to catch his breath.
You looked up at him with hazy, blissed-out eyes, fingers still buried inside yourself, a shy but satisfied little smile playing on your swollen lips. Jungkook leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours as he panted softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby… but fuck, I’m not done with you yet.”
n; this was a request by @internationalplayboi4u i strayed a bit away from the request so i hope that is okay! i hope you like it (:
pairing. bass player!jk x reader
genre. fluff, smut
word count. 18k
warnings. lotsa kissing, oral sex (m. & f.), sooome spit bc why not, protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming??
summary. you would have never expected your shy, innocent art partner to be the man on stage covered in tattoos
note. the tags are janky as fuck so if u read and enjoy, pls reblog ! let me refer you to this post of mine that birthed this hannah montana/double life jungkook. he is sweet and lowkey filthy and i love him sm & hope u will too <3, this fic is half plot and half smut to get myself back into writing filth and also to finally give jk a bassist story on my page lol, i’ve been working on this idea since january…writers block has been gnarly as fuck…so please let me know what you think of it hehe ty ilysm (also pls dont ask me for a part two, if i decide to write more for them ill let u guys know<3)
taglist. @parkdatjimin , @jimilogy , @cheekychoca , @jjk301 , @marcoazz2 , @girlsforgloss , @fancycollectormoon , @aurevoir-le-bitches , @redbabie17 , @tomotae , @heartykoo ,
The gentle breeze of the wind flows around you, trees rustling above, leaves fluttering down and landing on the blanket you had just meticulously spread out. The red and yellow leaves stand out against the light material, and you’re tempted to just leave them there but your desire to make this perfect has you crawling forward instantly, plucking the leaves and tossing them aside before smoothing out the fabric once more and settling back onto your butt.
There, that’s better.
The set up you currently had looked more like a picnic than the original drawing ‘date’ you had arranged. A wooden wicker basket was to your left, full of a variety of snacks and treats for you to munch on while you worked, your art supplies nestled to the side of it. You had almost forgotten them in your haste to leave, too excited about spending time with your art partner outside of class to remember what the actual premise of this was. It doesn’t stand out too much, the giant quad in the middle of your campus was occupied by other couples having similar picnics all around you, so hopefully you can pass this off as no big deal.
summary. you go out with your friends expecting nothing more than noise, dim lights, and familiar faces—but everything shifts the moment lisa notices you from across the bar. she’s a dancer, all sharp confidence and effortless control, and the way her eyes linger on you feels intentional, almost dangerous. every time you move, she seems closer; every laugh feels charged, like it’s being watched. by the time your gaze finally locks with hers, you realize the night isn’t about where you are anymore—it’s about being seen, singled out, and slowly pulled into lisa’s orbit without her ever having to say a word.
pairing. dom!dancer!lalisa manobal x sub!student!fem reader.
you found yourself nervously adjusting your glasses, the thick lenses fogging up slightly in the humid air of the dimly lit, velvet–curtained room. your heart raced as you clutched your overstuffed backpack to your chest, the weight of your textbooks and notes a comforting reminder of the academic world you knew. but this was a far cry from the fluorescent–lit halls of your university.
the moment you stepped through the ornate doorway, a statuesque figure in a black lace corset and sheer stockings spotted you. she sauntered over, hips swaying, a wicked gleam in her heavily made–up eyes. she gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face up to meet her intense stare.
“and what do we have here?” she purred, her voice dripping with disdain. “a lost little lamb, wandering into the wolf's den? silly girl, you know this is a members–only club, don’t you? the kind of place where naughty girls like me come to... play.”
she licked her full, crimson lips, letting her gaze rake over your conservative attire — a prim blouse, a pencil skirt that fell to your knees, and simple flats that had seen better days. her hand slid down to your collar, toying with the fabric.
“tell me, sweetie, did you wander in here by mistake? or did you come looking for something... more?” she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “i can smell the innocence on you, little one. it’s intoxicating. but i wonder…”
her other hand slid lower, to your hip, squeezing the flesh there possessively. “are you sure you’re ready to give up your purity? because once i start corrupting you, there will be no going back, pretty girl.”
lisa’s eyes flashed with hunger as she awaited your response, ready to drag you down into the depths of depravity if you dared to accept her challenge.
of course, you had to tell her the reason you came here; although the truth is, you don’t know it very well. your friends suggested you go out to a club that night and you tried to refuse, but they convinced you by telling you they had plans that would definitely change your mind... and honestly, that’s what was happening.
“i’m just looking for my friends.”
lisa’s lips curled into a wicked smirk, a predatory gleam sparkling in her eyes as she heard your nervous response. she leaned in closer, her ample bosom pressing against your blouse as she invaded your personal space.
“friends, hmm? you mean you didn’t come here alone, you naughty little minx? oh, i bet they’re going to be so disappointed when they find out what a fast learner you are…” she purred, her hand sliding from your hip to the curve of your ass, squeezing the firm flesh through your skirt.
she tilted her head, studying you with a critical eye. “i think you need to make a choice, sweet thing. stick with your friends and play it safe... or come with me and let me show you the kind of pleasure you’ve only ever read about in your textbooks.”
lisa’s fingers crept higher, slipping just beneath the hem of your skirt to caress the bare skin of your thigh, making your breath hitch in your throat. “i promise, i’ll be gentle... at first. i’ll take you on a journey of discovery, exploring every inch of your luscious body until you’re crying out for more.”
her other hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lower lip. “so what’s it going to be, pretty girl? are you ready to be a big girl and make your own choices? or do you need your friends to hold your hand, to protect your precious innocence?”
she leaned in until her lips were a hairsbreadth from yours, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “the clock is ticking, angel. choose quickly now, before i decide for you.”
"i wanna be with you.”
lisa’s eyes flashed with triumphant hunger as your breathless words reached her ears. a wicked grin spread across her face, revealing a glimpse of her straight, white teeth. her hand slid fully under your skirt, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as she yanked you flush against her.
“mmmh, such a brave little thing, aren’t you? i knew you had it in you.” she purred, her lips brushing against yours as she spoke. her other hand tangled in your hair, gripping it tightly and angling your head back.
she claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, her tongue invading and conquering, staking her claim on your innocence. lisa plundered your mouth, swallowing your gasps and whimpers, leaving you dizzy and breathless.
breaking the kiss, she growled against your lips. “god… good girl. you’ve made your choice, and now you belong to me. i’m going to ruin you for anyone else, pretty girl.”
punctuating her words, lisa hiked your skirt up around your waist and shoved her hand into your panties, fingers delving into your most intimate folds. she groaned at the feel of your slick heat, your body already aching with need.
“fuck, you’re dripping. i knew you wanted this, wanted me.” she hissed, rubbing your clit with swift, sure strokes. “don’t worry, angel. i’ll take good care of you... in my own special way.”
with that, lisa swept you up into her arms, carrying you deeper into the shadowed recesses of the club. your heart raced with fear and anticipation, knowing that your life would never be the same after tonight.
as she carried you away, lisa’s fingers never ceased their relentless assault on your dripping folds. she could feel your arousal growing with each step, your juices dripping down her fingers and staining your panties. the knowledge that she had reduced you to such a needy, wanton state only spurred on her lust.
she brought you to a private room, the heavy velvet curtains shutting out the rest of the club. the dim lighting cast a sensual glow over the plush furniture and the large, mirrored ceiling above the bed. lisa tossed you down onto the mattress, taking a moment to admire the sight of your disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, and skirt bunched up around your waist.
crawling over you, she pinned your wrists above your head, her hips nestling between your thighs. she could feel the heat of your core, the way your body arched up against hers seeking friction. a wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned down to purr in your ear. “now, let’s see just how well you learn, my naughty little student. i’m going to test your limits, push you to take everything i give you. and if you’re a good girl and do as i say... i might just reward you in the end.”
*with that promise hanging in the air, lisa captured your lips in another searing kiss, her tongue delving deep as her hands began to explore the rest of your body with single–minded purpose. he was determined to unravel you, to pick apart every thread of your innocence until you were left bare and begging for more.
lisa’s hands roamed your body with bold, possessive strokes, slipping beneath your blouse to palm the soft swells of your breasts. her thumbs brushed over your nipples through the thin lace of your bra, feeling them stiffen and pebble under her touch. she groaned approvingly at your responsiveness, relishing the way your body betrayed your desire.
“that’s it, baby. let me feel you.” she murmured, nipping at your throat as her fingers deftly unhooked the front clasp of your bra. your breasts spilled free, and lisa took a moment to admire their perfect, rounded shape, the rosy peaks just begging to be touched.
she leaned down, drawing one nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and flicking the sensitive bud with her tongue. her other hand continued its exploration lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your skirt to cup your mound. she could feel the heat radiating from your core, the damp patch darkening your panties.
lisa rubbed your clit through the fabric, feeling it swell and throb under her touch. she could tell how badly you needed release, how close you were to the edge already. a wicked grin curved her lips around your nipple as she whispered. “already so worked up, aren’t you, pretty girl? don’t worry, i’ll give you what you need... in good time. but first, i want to taste every inch of you.”
with that, lisa peeled your skirt and panties down your legs, leaving you bare and exposed beneath her hungry gaze. she pushed your thighs apart, settling between them, and breathed in the intoxicating scent of your arousal.
“fuck, you smell divine.” she groaned, before diving in to run her tongue along your slick folds, savoring your essence. “i could get addicted to this sweet cunt.”
she sealed her lips around your clit, sucking hard as two fingers plunged deep into your tight channel. lisa pumped them in and out, curling against that special spot inside you, determined to make you scream.
“come on, angel. let me hear that pretty voice of yours. scream for me as i fuck this greedy little pussy.” she demanded, her fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on your most sensitive places. “i want the whole club to hear what you like.”
lisa could feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, your body tensing as your climax approached. she doubled her efforts, sucking harder on your clit as she pumped into you faster, spurred on by your desperate whimpers and moans.
“that’sit, baby. come for me.” she growled, her voice vibrating against your sensitive flesh. “i want to feel you come apart on my tongue, want to taste your sweet cream flooding my mouth. give it to me, pretty girl. now.”
she curled her fingers just right, rubbing that magic spot inside you as she flicked her tongue rapidly over your clit. your back arched off the bed, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.
lisa moaned in triumph as she felt your essence gush out, coating her fingers and chin. She licked and lapped at your spasming slit, swallowing every drop of your release as if it were the finest ambrosia. the taste of your pleasure only fueled her lust, making her crave more.
she continued to stroke your sensitive flesh, coaxing out every last aftershock until you were a whimpering, trembling mess beneath her. only then did lisa slowly climb up your body, her lips and chin glistening with your juices. hovering over you, she purred against your lips. “mmmh, you taste even better than i imagined, angel. i could get addicted to this sweet cunt.”
she licked her lips, eyeing you with a predatory gleam. “but don’t think we’re done yet, baby. that was just the beginning. i’m going to ruin you for anyone else, pretty girl.”
lisa’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lower lip. “i want to explore every inch of this gorgeous body, want to claim every part of you as mine. so what do you say, doll? ready to be mine completely?”
she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper as she murmured. “or do you need more... persuasion? because i can be very, very persuasive when i want to be, babe…”
✿ pairing: jewelry-maker jungkook x florist reader
✿ genre: idiots to lovers, fluff, slight bits of crack and angst
✿ summary: every sunday, the farmers’ market took place in the center of town. vendors from near and far traveled to sell their crafts, their produce, their teas. as the local florist, you figured that running a booth each weekend would boost your business and bring in new clients. at least, those were your reasons in the beginning. but, now? now, you returned just for the handsome jewelry-maker whose booth was next to yours.
✿ word count: 7k
✿ warnings: pg15, slight innuendo, mention of alcohol, noona!reader, mutual pining, memes, vmin as teen prom dates, chaotic 2seok + joon as jk’s bandmates, scheming yoongi as reader’s assistant, sweetheart jungkook tries his best but doesn’t succeed, one (1) make out scene uwu
✿ beta’d by: the gracious phia @meowxyoong
✿ banner by: the talented queen of banner-making maggie @kimtaehyunq
Summary: Toddlers have always hated Jungkook and Jungkook have always hated toddlers
+ “Jungkook… what the hell happened here? And why’s there spaghetti on the ceiling?”
Genre: Fluff
A/N: swear this was just supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away. based on a lil story my lecturer told that one time (’:
“Well, we could just meet up at the library later?”
“I uh… I can’t,” You mumble, fidgeting in your spot because you’ve had a conversation just like this every week now.
“Y/N, we have to start the project today. He wants it in by tomorrow night.”
“I know, I know,” You sigh. “I’m sorry it’s just, I have to babysit my sister tonight… I’ll just work on it and then send it to you in the morning for you to compile and edit?”
“What? I’m not going to let you work on it alone,” He frowns. “I can just meet you at your place…”
“A-are you sure?” You ask and your eyes light up with hope. “I live about 20 minutes off campus by car…” You mumble.
“Oh…”
“Yeah, that’s what my last partner said too,” You laugh. “Really, Jungkook I can just do the wo—”
“Just text me the address. I’ll find my way there,” He smiles, cutting your sentence short.
“You don’t have to—”
“I have a class in 10 so I have to go… but text me your address okay?”
He doesn’t even wait to hear your reply, rushing out of the classroom before you could answer him.
j.k x fem reader (smut). contains: sub jk, licking/munching pussy, alcoholic beverages, dominance and control play, drunk oral sex.
( \̅_̅/̷̚ʾ )
you two were going to solve the problem of lack of sex in the simplest way: if he could drink more than you, he could lick you.
this was a challenge that no other Jungkook could accept. he would drink an entire bottle of vodka just to have his tongue in your pussy, even if it was for two minutes. he immediately accepted.
excited, he poured a little whiskey into each of your glasses, already possessing an absurdly positive outlook that he was going to win.
“I drink more than you”, argued, smiling.
while you were toasting, you wondered if he was really remembering who he was and that it only takes two to him do the tango.
but you smiled, not wanting to spoil the little man's happiness. “let's see”
you two turned the glass over, the alcohol tasted bitter, making you squint. Jungkook laughed, he always thought your face looked cute. you went to the second one, which made him grunt. by the third time, he was already captivated by your legs, noticing how beautiful and soft they were.
“babe”, he whimpered, already feeling it. you denied it, raising the fourth shot for him.
“drink”
the hesitant expressions on Jungkook's eyebrows showed that he was already more desperate at the thought of actually having to compete, but he drink it anyway, not wanting to defy your rules.
he observed how your face remained unperturbed while you drank, damn it. he couldn't stop thinking about how attractive you looked that way, bossy and intimidating; how you would probably punish him for weeks if he didn't take the fifth shot.
fifth shot. his cheeks were already flushed, and he kept running his hand through his hair, as if he couldn't wait any longer. you had to admit that you were already finding him sexy like that, desperate to show that he wasn't starting to get drunk.
then, he approached you, crouching down on the floor and reaching for your legs, without worrying if it looked pathetic (or perhaps that notion no longer occurred to him), and hugged them, running his hands over them as if you were a saint. his puppy-dog eyes were huge.
“babe please, let's forget about this, just let me...”, sighed, “I swear I won't ask for anything else anymore”
from up there, you looked at him. his misery excited you, so there was this moment of tension between you looking at each other. Jungkook seemed to believe in his own request, especially when you gently took his cheese; his eyes widened with hope, but lowered when you handed him another shot, in a short, harsh whisper: “drink”.
that was as cruel as the hard erection in his shorts, seemingly begging for more from him. like a good boy, he took the shot that you yourself poured into his mouth.
he lowered his head, digesting the drink, feeling more euphoric with each passing moment, his blood heating up. then he looked back at you. you were drinking with mastery, still without any clear sign of drunkenness. how could he compete? but he wouldn't give up, no... he needed to, god, he needed to.
sixth shot. he tried to argue, “babe, there's going to be a tour, I'm going to be without you for a month? won't you miss me?”
he tried to look into your eyes. that argument kinda made sense. but you weren't interested.
seventh shot.
“babe, please, please, please, please, please, please”, he gripped your legs, his head buried in them, pleading, “please, I beg you!”
his expression of suffering, with his eyes almost tearing up, surprised you, making you chuckled, knowing you had arrived, exactly where you wanted him to be. he would never get past the ninth or tenth shot, not under those conditions of pure deprivation.
“you can't never do it, can you?”
you provoked him, holding his chin again, watching his decline. he shook his head no.
“say it”
“I can never... I can never stay away from you, or your pussy”
your fingers slid through his hair, gripping it, making him groan, which was quickly replaced by a surprised moan when you spread your legs, implying that you had ended the challenge and would now allow him to, guiding him between you.
Jungkook stopped trembling as soon as he covered your entire pussy with his mouth, as if it were an ecstatic effect. he didn't dare hold your thighs; he knew he would lose his only chance, so he kept his hands down, at your mercy, listening to your moans.
his tongue went all the way in, soft despite its current state. he was savoring you better than he would any other shot, sucking, making incredible frictions with his jaw, which left you trembling and your breathing irregular. fuck, this man was so good. sometimes, he would bury his head deeper, bumping his nose against your clit, up and down, getting all wet.
“fuck, Jeon...”, you moaned, trying to keep your legs open, your foot shrinking, gripping his long hair tighter and tighter. his tongue, always so long that it made you restless, shifting on the sofa.
he looked at you, but only saw a ray of light, like that of a goddess. he must have been delirious, in you, in your juice.
but he quickly returned to your pussy, his source of happiness, giving it little sucks. he wouldn't stop his tongue, no, never.
and meanwhile, you felt your orgasm approaching, also dazed by the alcohol, increasingly sensitive, your hormones soaring.
“Jeon... argh!” your hips lifted, still pressed against his mouth, as you came, gripping the leather of the sofa. Jungkook licked, white and viscous, his little eyes closing, as if it were the best thing in the world.
his pulled his mouth away from your clit with a pout, looking at you. seeing you take a deep breath, your chest rising and falling. he had an implicit expression, still needy, wanting more and asking you.
“what, do you want more?”
“you know I can't stand having just a little, babe, please”
you looked at each other again, his mouth wet, his hair disheveled, that fucking pretty disaster.
you spread your legs again, also wanting to cum more.
“ok, but you'll only stop when I tell you to. If you complain about your jaw hurting, you'll go without anything for the whole month”
he exasperated, “no, I would fucking never”
“you better”
and then, in contrast to your rougher voice, you gently guided him back between your legs, beginning to moan as you felt him sucking on you.
a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course.
and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.
pairing: jeongguk x reader
total word count: 55.6k
rating: 18+
content: smut | angst | fluff | friends with benefits au | idiots to lovers au | college au | yearning? pining? | ft. swimmer!jeongguk, editor-in-chief!reader (small appearances from swimmer!jimin & associate editor!taehyung)
gen. warning/s: swearing | mature themes | implicit / explicit sexual content
THE PARTS. ( 16 / 16. )
♡ EPISODE 01. the one with the rumor ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 02. the one with the mood booster ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 03. the one with ex-boyfriend !
♡ EPISODE 04. the one with the threat !
♡ EPISODE 05. the one with the double ambush !
♡ EPISODE 06. the one with the martyr !
♡ EPISODE 07. the one with the fever !
♡ EPISODE 08. the one with the end of an era ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 09. the one with the new territory ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 10. the one with the rule break ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 11. the one with the mystery girl ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 12. the one with the tension !
♡ EPISODE 13. the one with the outburst !
♡ EPISODE 14. the one with the confrontation !
♡ EPISODE 15. the one with the bargain ! [ nsfw. ]
♡ EPISODE 16. the one with a lover's kiss !
THE EXTRAS. ( 02 / ∞ )
♡ MINISODE 01. the one with the hickey !
♡ MINISODE 02. the one with the quickie ! [ nsfw. ]
THE OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK.
( 01. ) just friends; audrey mika | a.d.i.d.a.s.; little mix
( 02. ) cool; dua lipa | obvious; ariana grande | love the way; yugyeom (ft. jay park & punchnello)
( 03. ) lowkey; niki
( 04. ) talk me down; troye sivan
( 05. ) mr. brightside; the killers
( 06. ) kathang-isip; ben&ben | deja vu; olivia rodrigo
( 07. ) double take; dhruv | square; yerin baek
( 08. ) fuck up the friendship; leah kate
( 09. ) goodnight n go; ariana grande | pretty boy; the neighbourhood
( 10. ) kiss me more; doja cat ft. sza
( 11. ) irresistible; one direction
( 12. ) lmly; jackson wang
( 13. ) if you don’t know; 5 seconds of summer | just friends; keshi
( 14. ) cheating on you; charlie puth
( 15. ) dreaming alone; against the current
( 16. ) fool for you; zayn | off my face; justin bieber
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
click here for the spotify playlist kindly made by @himboksj ! since it was created as a collaborative playlist, feel free to add some songs you think fit the vibe of this series :> [and i’ll just assign them to a episode number i feel it fits the most hehe]
NOTEWORTHY ASKS.
how alk!jk looks at oc
when alk!jk realized he might be catching real feELInGS
“I own your whole life for 24 hours.”
Jungkook negotiates his free use deal, and you hand him the keys to your life for a full day. (8.6k)
cw (18+): major warnings only. see mlist for the general scope and please read at your own risk. Free use, total power exchange
A pathological litigator to the bone, Jeon Jungkook DOES NOT accept anything he hasn’t read or written himself. He doesn’t break any laws just to get a win of course, but he most certainly walks around them every once in a while to get his way. It’s crucial to be assertive but NOT aggressive, otherwise he can’t lull the other party into agreeing to his terms. You’re no exception to the rule.
Which is why he packages your impromptu meetup as “Let’s get coffee” rather than “I wanna negotiate how I’m gonna use you for my personal gratification.”
He hasn’t penned a deliberately verbose “Terms of Use” to bury his motive under a pile of ‘hereinafter’s or anything. There is no 50 Shades-style cringe contract to sign. He just asks for one thing, and it’s so concise and straightforward that his motive stands before you buck naked.
With a blinding spotlight cast on it for good measure.
“For 24 hours, I own your whole life, so think it over carefully,” he ends his pitch. “And if you decide you wanna do it, give me a three-day window.”
“Three-day wi— Why even?” you stare at him, slightly suspicious.
“Where’s the fun if you know exactly when it’s gonna happen?” he flashes you a devilish grin.
So think you do.
It isn’t what Jungkook might have you do that you contemplate so hard, staring at your bedroom ceiling. You interrogate yourself brutally to find out how much trust you’ve really deposited in him over the years. Whether it’s enough to let him take the steering wheel of your life, even if it’s for 24 hours. Feelings or not, there is no other person you lean on as much as him when it comes to serious matters, but…
What if he doesn’t consider this serious at all? What if this is just not that deep for him? At the end of the day, it’s just a game you play.
Are you overthinking this for no reason at all? It’s not like the guy’s gonna have you rob a bank—the most he’ll do is ask you to suck his dick somewhere risky.
But how risky?
Would he just not give a shit because he has the reins for one day? Would you somehow find yourself between a rock and a hard place? What if you agree despite all his disclaimers and still end up in a situation where you have to say no? Would he be disappointed? Would you be disappointed by what he asks of you?
Do you not trust him enough after all?
Well, it’s not like you have to say yes. Your cab negotiations had NO condition that you have to give him unlimited access to have sex with him. Technically, you can just say no to the free use part, tell him it might be a bit much for you, and still keep fucking him. Dude’s been getting no action for three years; it’s not likely that it’ll be a dealbreaker.
But your morbid curiosity eats the last bit of your trust issues like Pacman after a three-year fast. YOU HAVE TO KNOW WHAT THIS IS LIKE!
You grab your phone and send a text to Jungkook, declaring your three-day window as Friday to Sunday. Before you can assume a sleeping position, however, your phone goes off with notifications back to back, vibrating itself to the very edge of your nightstand.
From: HAHA JK (unless? 👀)
tomorrow night before you go to bed
change the batteries of your bullet
sleep naked with that inside you
in OPERATING condition
and don’t leave your keys in the lock istfg i’ll call a locksmith
Reading that to-do list, your stomach does three front tucks back to back and sticks the landing perfectly. You know your entire blood supply is rushing to your face right now because the pillow feels colder out of nowhere. Jungkook’s going to be here to own your life for one day. He will say, and you will do. It suddenly feels like you’re going to get on one of those rides that freefalls from a jillion feet tomorrow night.
Wait, tomorrow night?
You lunge at your phone and wake up your screen. The time shows 00:04 and the day tag reads “Thur”. You haven’t discussed “business hours”, but does he intend to be here at 12 a.m. sharp or something?
So… in less than 24 hours?
On a business day?
HOLY FUCK THAT’S SOON!!!
You spend your entire Thursday with your heart clawing at the bars of its enclosure. Did he deliberately ask for a THREE-day window so he could pick a business day no matter what? Is he actually going to come to work with you tomorrow? And if so… what for… exactly?
All of a sudden, you catch yourself looking at every corner of your office with an interior designer’s critical eye. Your desk, the couch across it meant for your guests, the conference table, the gigantic windowsill… And once you see the ultra HD porn that manifests in your mind, depicting how you’d get fucked senseless on each surface with him breathing down your neck, you just cannot unsee it!
You may have had a hands-free microorgasm, but that’s besides the point.
You deliberately bury yourself in work for the rest of the day just so you’d be tired enough to go to bed early, but NO fucking dice. No matter how much you try, you can’t sleep a wink because of whatever frat party’s going on in your chest and stomach. It’s such a jumbled mix of emotions that you can’t tell what it really is. Is it fear? Excitement? Anxiety? Anticipation? Fexcitetycipation?
Before you can properly decipher the Inside Out situation, however, Jungkook’s spare keys turn in the lock, and you hear your front door open at exactly 12 a.m. It wasn’t even part of the ‘assignment’, but in a panic fit, you decide that you’re gonna pretend you’re asleep, hoping your heart thumping in your ears isn’t audible from the outside.
The rest of your senses are so alert that you can hear a hair strand fall, really.
The front door closes, and keys slide into the lock again, turning with satisfying clanks. Footsteps approach closer. Jungkook’s cologne walks into your bedroom long before he does, bringing a bit of night chill with it. Something like a duffel bag softly thuds against the floor. The rustle of clothes being discarded fills the room, but there is no movement towards you. The footsteps fade away. In the distance, the squeak of a faucet melts into high-pressure water bursting from the showerhead, immediately followed by Jungkook humming a tune to himself.
You almost crack up.
His presence in the house gives you so much peace that it erases whatever weird amalgam of emotions was pressing on your ribcage earlier. All you feel is giddy excitement now, glowing with a bit of the warm and fuzzies.
Shortly after, the water stops running. The shower door slides open. The footsteps approach again, but this time, there is movement towards you. You feel a balmy breeze blowing your way courtesy of the scalding hot water Jungkook loves showering with, carrying hints of your shower gel with it. You’re not supposed to peek to keep your façade, but you’re dying to know what he looks like half-naked under the sultry lights of your nightstand lamps.
Well, it’s dark enough. You just need to make sure it’s not obvious.
“Hey, beautiful,” he softly whispers.
IS THIS FUCKING PART OF IT?
The way your heart races would put the entire F1 roster to shame. Does he know you’re awake, or is he saying shit because he thinks you can’t hear him in your sleep? In any case, you’re glad to be protected by a fabric firewall because that throb between your legs would snitch on your lack of REM sleep big time.
Turns out it’s probably gonna snitch anyway since Jungkook decides your hiding days are over.
The bed dips a little with his weight, and he carefully peels the thin blanket off of you. When the heat you’ve been preserving under the covers vanishes into air, the chill that licks your body marks the wet parts with a frigid X.
You have not realized you were dripping a little on your sheets.
But you know the bullet has nothing to do with it. You know because the pulsating sensation only manifested after Jungkook set foot into your house. The moment he set foot, actually.
Simp much?
A satisfied hiss hits your ears, and you feel the warmth of his skin on your thighs, large hands delicately caressing you. When you finally jump the gun and open your eyes the tiniest bit, you kinda understand why he wanted something stimulating you in his absence.
He’s drooling like a starving hyena staring at your sopping wet pussy.
“Delllicious,” he licks his lips, contently exhaling. “Thinking good thoughts of me?”
The correct question is, when do you ever not?
He settles between your legs and removes the bullet very very carefully as if he’s trying not to knock down a Jenga tower. He clicks it off, and out of nowhere, places the most tender kiss on your clit.
Obviously you would flinch!
He doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask you if you’re awake or not. He just chuckles with his eyes closed and continues with his kisses. Maybe that’s his way of trying to lull you to sleep, who knows?
He slowly gets back on his knees, removes the towel clinging to his waist, and drops it on the floor. Yet again, you can’t be sure if he’s putting on a show or just doing things knowing you’re “not there” to perceive him.
But when he smears your slick on the bullet all over his cock and gets hard right in front of you…
HOLY F—!
“All of this is mine to play with now,” he presses his tip on your pussy. “I wanna show up in your wet dreams.”
AS IF he doesn’t already!
You think this is the part where he starts fucking you, but he seems to be just teasing himself. Jungkook must be the only man in existence who holds up the promise of “Just the tip” because his tip is literally the only thing that’s in, fucking you only very very shallowly. He can just full-on bury himself inside you, but he just strokes his cock to accompany that barely-there contact.
Maybe he’s a man after your own heart, relishing the climb a lot more than the fall.
“I wanna be the only thing you think of when you pleasure yourself,” he quietly utters, which turns into a grunt like he’s in mild pain. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”
The correct question is, when is he ever not?
Oh, you can’t pretend. You can’t pretend you don’t hear him. You can’t pretend you don’t feel him. You can’t pretend you’re not about to lose your damn mind watching him float in ecstasy just from this much; there’s just no fucking way.
“Do it properly,” you urge him, voice convincingly hoarse from keeping silent. “This isn’t hard enough.”
Jungkook sees your half smile and reflects it back at you with a maniacal one. He throws your legs on his shoulder, getting ready to hit deep.
“Did you see me in your dreams?” he whispers, even though there is no one else sleeping in the room.
“Will you cum inside me if I did?” you clasp your hands behind his nape.
“I’ll cum inside you even if you didn’t.”
Cannonballing into your lips, he takes off, precise thrusts hitting just the right spots. He refuses to let your lips go, even if it means less oxygen for him. The sounds he makes would make an unsuspecting listener think he must be having the meal of his life, the way he moans in delight with such wet sounds.
When he notices he’s about to hit the finish line, Jungkook picks up his pace, sprinting at full speed, but he only allows the first burst inside you. Then he quickly pulls out, fervently stroking himself to coat your pussy with himself through and through. Watching those thick strings drip from your clit down to your hole…
If he physically could, he would cum again.
He settles between your legs and spreads them as wide as he can, just admiring the view of your creamed cunt. So vulnerable, all spread for him to please. So delicious. Absolutely mouthwatering. He licks a long drag from your entrance to your clit, smiling into your pussy when it makes you shiver. He wraps his arms around your thighs, closes his eyes, and begins to have the meal of his life.
For real this time.
Of course he notices you moan louder when he stimulates certain spots, but he doesn’t care. He just indulges in your taste mixed with his however the fuck he wants, licking, sucking, slurping to his heart’s content. But his heart’s only. He doesn’t care if you pull fistfuls of his hair when you cum, arching into his mouth with a damn near scream. He doesn’t care if you thrash under him, trying to get away from the ticklish feeling. He doesn’t care if you beg him to stop. He just eats.
And eats.
Then eats some more.
“Shh, shh, shh, you can take it. Just enjoy what it feels like to selfishly receive,” he kisses your clit. “And you’ll receive a lot today.”
Jesus christ, if you knew this was what the Free ‘The Big Spook’ Use™ was, you would have suggested it eons ago!
“Jungkook, I… I need to get some sleep,” you yawn, finally feeling the weight on your eyelids after the massive relief. “Work… tomorrow.”
“Then sleep. I’m not stopping you.”
“You know I can’t when you…! You know when you’re… You… You know…”
“Then that’s just too bad,” he serenely smiles at you. “I’m so in the mood to play.”
Play… Playing with him… Being his plaything when… he’s so in the mood…
What the fuck is this Satan’s spawn doing to you? Are you somehow getting bewitched?!
The play part is all fun and games, but there is only one problem with it. And it’s a big one.
When you agreed to this, you were somehow under the impression that Jungkook was going to treat you like an object, and you were fully prepared for it. Because he made it sound like something super dark, physically and mentally taxing, with high potential to leave a very bad taste in your mouth. You were expecting to feel bad, or at the very least… challenged. You expected to struggle.
Yet what he’s doing, the way he’s moving…
It’s a lot more dangerous than the alternative. It moves like a duck, quacks like a duck, but you’re supposed to convince yourself that the cute white fluff waddling your way is NOT a duck. Because you kinda have to.
Otherwise you’re gonna believe he loves you, and not like a friend at all.
“Turn around,” he taps the side of your thighs. “Arch your ass for me. There you go.”
Oh, okay, there it is.
This is the shoe, and it’s about to drop. This is where you get your ass spanked, hair pulled, and get called a bunch of profanities while he drills you into this bed. You get into position as instructed, and when you feel his heat behind you, you brace for impact.
Something does land on your body, but it’s not a smack. It’s just a kiss between your shoulder blades. A wet one that makes loud sounds.
You’re going to draw your last breath in this bed tonight.
He makes his way down, kissing along your spine, and stops on the small of your back. You feel his hands on your hips, and he continues kissing your waist as if he wants to suck some poison out of you. His breath on your skin is like a hallucinogen, making you imagine a reality that will never exist.
Every time he presses those damn lips on you, you’re getting a little more delusional.
His kisses move further down. It tickles when he grazes his teeth on your hips, taking gentle bites from it, and a moan cuts your giggles in half when his tongue dips into your pussy. He licks into your hole like he wants to quench his thirst after being forced to stand under the desert sun for hours.
“Shh, steady,” he urges as he fondles you a little harder. “Hold it.”
“B–But I’m… I’m s… c–close.”
“Should I stop?”
“NO!”
“Didn’t think so,” he chuckles. “Don’t interrupt my fun now. I’m really enjoying myself here.”
If he doesn’t want his goddamn fun interrupted, then maybe he should fucking take it easy with the very thing that’s gonna RUIN IT!
Of course he doesn’t stop. He just keeps licking, licking, and licking, gradually sinking his fingers deeper into your supple flesh as a pseudo-warning with each glide of his tongue, but you can’t help it.
How can anybody help it when they are fucking ascending in his mouth?!
“What did I just tell you?” he heaves an exasperated sigh.
“I’m… s–sorry, it was just… too good,” you speak through your stuttering breathing.
“Is that supposed to be a good excuse?”
Jungkook doesn’t seem amused at all. His face is straight, his voice is stern, and he gives you zero clues to correctly guess whether he’s playing a part or not. Your only fallback option is to take his annoyance at face value and assume he’s indeed not kidding.
“Are you mad?” you hesitantly ask.
“No, but I’m upset,” he responds with a pout, brows knitting tighter together. “I asked for one thing, and you completely ignored it.”
“Can I make it up to you?”
“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter.”
He flips you around to face him, then grabs his cock, pumping himself to full hardness.
“Now I’m gonna fix myself another plate, with extra frosting this time,” he rubs his tip around your sodden folds before he aligns his cock with your oozing hole. “If you interrupt me again, I will not be as nice, and everything you’re paranoid about will happen.”
A sense of dread settles in your chest. Okay, so this is the shoe. You won’t be able to resist his relentless attempts to snap you, and he’s finally gonna have his excuse to punish you.
Who knows just how much your acute worry is blaring on your face, the way his features instantly soften.
“But if you make me happy, I’ll make you happi–er,” he emphasizes. “Are you gonna behave now?”
You just nod in response as if you have swallowed your entire vocabulary. He flashes you a warm smile, and something tingles in your chest.
“Then let’s kiss and make up,” he steals your lips for the umpteenth time.
The phantom death grip on your throat suddenly loosens. With every kiss, whatever anxious feeling was trying to break in gets shunned away. It’s like you’re spellbound.
He is bewitching you, you’re sure of it now.
Arms and legs tangled with one another, Jungkook fucks you dangerously slow and deep, and it’s so much worse than having him pass through you at berserk speed. Because you can feel every inch inside you. You can feel exactly how his girth grazes against your swollen walls. You can feel that spot the curvature of his cock hits just right. You would much rather get fucked senseless and messy, preferably with his soft kisses replaced with spanks, because then you could guarantee with absolute certainty that you wouldn’t cum.
Yet this motherfucker is HELLBENT on forcing an orgasm out of you.
You steady your breathing to the best of your ability, trying to distract yourself by thinking the unsexiest thoughts. The overstimulation helps a bit, but at the end of the day, you can’t put a leash on fucking biology.
You can’t put a leash on your fucking feelings!
Your mind is damn near convinced you’re fucking a boyfriend who’s insanely in love with you because the only thing missing from the scene is Jungkook whispering ‘I love you’s in between his kisses. He holds you in his arms, playing with your hair, kissing you endlessly, softly moaning with every thrust, and you’re on the very brink of just screaming at his face, “Either marry me, or give my fucking sanity back!!!”
And when he moves his kisses from your lips to your neck, something finally snaps within you. You do cum, but he doesn’t seem mad this time.
“I’m really sorry! I just… I couldn’t help it!”
“Shh,” he soothes you immediately. “That was some solid effort.”
“You’re not upset?”
“I’d never get upset when I know you didn’t just drop the ball. It’s the thought that counts,” he runs his fingers through your hair with a smile. “You made me very proud.”
He then sits down to finish his plate with extra frosting, and you find yourself in a ceaseless loop. He eats. Then you fuck. Then he eats. Then you fuck. It’s like the man runs on unlimited stamina, and you realize you’ve literally fucked until morning when your alarm goes off.
To no one’s surprise, you’re thoroughly and utterly spent.
“Good morning,” he grins at you. “Slept okay?”
“Oh, fuck you, Jeon.”
“Still? Damn, you are insatiable.”
You slap his arm and break into a smile yourself, albeit a very fucked out one, and grab your phone to turn off the alarm.
“Alright, I need a freezing ass shower to stay awake for the rest of the day,” you lock your screen and rub your eyes.
“Turn off your phone.”
You look at him questioningly, but he doesn’t flinch, looking dead serious. You fulfill his request, and he pulls you back to bed again.
“Now turn off your brain.”
You’re not sure how you’re supposed to do it, but it kinda helps when he kisses your forehead.
“Today, you do everything I say, no questions asked. You do it to make me happy,” he caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers. “And if you make me happy?”
“You’ll make me happier?” you snort.
He offers a click of his tongue paired with a wink as wordless confirmation.
“You seem a bit too giddy about all this,” you observe.
“Fuck yeah, I am. I’m the birthday boy, and today all my wishes come true,” he lands a slap on your hips. “Get your ass up, I’m making pancakes.”
“Are you sure you’re doing this right?” you furrow your brows as you get up from the bed. “Everything so far was as if I’m the birthday girl.”
“They haven’t published a strict rulebook to follow yet. Might just spoil you rotten, who knows?” he smirks. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Hm?”
Jungkook gets on his feet and walks to you, holding your face in his hands. He looks into your eyes with so much meaning that you don’t even have to ask, “Are you for fucking real right now?”
“Starting right now, you do not talk unless I let you,” he instructs. “Is that clear?”
Oh, okay, so this is the shoe, then. Right?
You nod as you try to remember what you had on the calendar for today. Not that you have much of a choice after everything that transpired…
“Good,” he places a tender kiss on your lips. “Go take your shower while I make breakfast.”
You’re properly dazed when you get under that water because nothing about this makes any goddamn sense. Bro claims he has trouble getting hard and sustaining it, which he calls an affectile dysfunction—a.k.a. he allegedly only gets turned on to specific things. The circumstantial evidence from a club alley and steamy hotline action kinda sorta suggests he has a bit of a thing for cum. And mayyybe the idea of sharing his partner as well as being watched. So far, so good.
Yet this morning, the aching between your legs begs to fucking differ.
It wouldn’t be entirely off the mark to call what you did all night making love. Not a shred of kink, except for his staple cum thingy. That was quite literally softer than all the sex you had with your actual exes combined. Is it ridiculous to think he popped a pill last night to be able to perform? Or…
Is Jungkook… lying to you about some things?
You wake up from the thoughts you’re lost in when the shower door suddenly slides open. Jungkook randomly joins you to take a very quick shower next to you in silence. Once he’s done, he reaches for the shower door, but stops at the last second.
He grabs the loofah from your hands and turns you around to wash your back. Since you’re on “timeout”, unless he says things, it’s dead quiet, and the lack of snarky remarks starts to feel awkward. You need something to remind you that he’s still the egomaniacal asshole, otherwise…
Otherwise…
Jungkook hands you the loofah back, and with yet another quick peck on your lips, he finally exits the shower, leaving you to rinse your body. You wonder if you’ll be able to wash some other unwanted things off if you scrub yourself hard enough.
Unbothered to operate a blow dryer, you just blot up the excess moisture from your hair with a towel and follow the delicious smells with your fluffy robe still on. When you reach your destination, however, the breakfast table is so damn lavish that it makes your jaw drop, hard enough to cause a sizeable dent in the floor.
Did he fucking SHOP last night because you didn’t even have this much stuff in your fridge!
“No, that’s not where you sit.”
When Jungkook majestically cockblocks your blossoming fling with the scrambled eggs, you stare at him a little annoyed, still standing. He holds your hand and pulls you towards himself, pointing at the floor with his eyes.
“On your knees for me.”
Oh…
No, that’s… Is that the shoe?
“No, I’m not gonna make you eat there,” he responds as if he can read your mind, then takes his cock out of his gray sweatpants. “Fluff me.”
Maybe you’re a little bit ashamed of the sigh of relief you discreetly let out.
When you get on your knees, you realize Jungkook really meant what he said last night. It was by design, but all you did was indeed selfishly receive. Everything. You didn’t even lift a finger for his pleasure.
You look up at him with a smile and drag his sweatpants all the way down, spreading his legs a little wider. Your hands caressing his sides, you start with kisses on his thighs and move your way up to his balls, then his shaft, then start climbing towards his tip. You trace the bulging veins on his cock with your tongue, relishing the breathy moans he lets slip, but before you even take him in your mouth, he stops you.
“Fuck, you’re gonna ruin my appetite if you keep doing that,” he flashes you an already fucked out smile. “Come up. I saved you a seat.”
When you rise to your feet again, he undoes the belt of your robe first, taking a moment to enjoy the view. He then turns you around and makes you sit on his lap.
Directly on his cock.
“Comfortable?” he asks, pushing a little further inside you.
You nod and reach for the fork to seduce the pancakes this time, just to get cockblocked yet again.
“No,” Jungkook grabs your hand and puts it back down. “I’ll feed you.”
FEED YOU?
Oh, god, this is even worse than the kiss-fucking. Just what the hell is he PLAYING AT?!
Other than driving you clinically insane, that is.
“Point. Which one do you want?”
You point at the raspberry ones you’ve been rizzing up, and Jungkook sticks a fork in one, cutting it up into little pieces, then feeds you the first bite. Your eyes roll back with how orgasmic that taste is.
“Good?” he smirks at your enthusiastic reaction.
You fervently nod, and Jungkook begins his princess treatment in earnest.
He actually hand-feeds you everything you want, one arm wrapped around your waist caressing you from time to time. You feel him get hard inside you, occasionally throbbing, which makes you silently giggle. But he’s treating you so well that you’re getting suspicious as to when the use part will begin.
When you’re finished with your pancakes, you reach for the little bowl that has cut-up peaches in it, and he immediately stops you again, but this time, you stare daggers at him and break free. He heaves a deep, annoyed sigh, clearly about to get mad, but when you turn to him with a piece of peach hovering over his mouth, he instantly softens. He lets you feed him the plump fruit, licking the juices on your fingers a little, and having absolutely no impulse control, he pulls you into a kiss.
WHY IS EVERYTHING SO SOFT?!
His kisses are a bit heated this time, turning into gentle bites. He starts fucking into you with his idle fingers playing with your clit.
“God, I can’t stop…” he pants into your neck. “You feel so good.”
The whole thing is like a summer rain. It quickly escalates, he rains on you, and it’s all clear skies and sunshine again. He calms down as he catches his breath in the crook of your neck, then continues with the breakfast as if nothing had happened just now. It makes you chuckle.
“Full?” he asks when you stop his next bite.
You nod.
“Did you like it?”
You nod again.
“Then give me a kiss.”
FUCKING STOP!
But of course you don’t, because the day you say no to kissing Jungkook, you need to be checked into a psych ward. Of course you kiss him even though it’s horrendously domestic. Your heart flutters when he kisses your breasts.
“Now that you’ve finished eating, I can start.” He taps on your side for you to get up and clears half the plates to make space. “Sit on the table.”
You look at him all incredulous, but considering how he sits back on the chair, it wasn’t a figure of speech. You sit on the table, and he pulls his chair closer, pulling something out of his pocket that looks like a lube bottle. He opens the cap and holds it under your nose.
“Does it smell good?”
You nod.
“It’s edible,” he grins. “Spread your legs for me.”
Unlike his M.O. that you know by heart by now, Jungkook doesn’t dive right in. He drips a bit of the oil into his palm and coats his hands with it, then starts massaging your lips carefully to soothe the “burn”, observing your face every once in a while for any signs of discomfort.
Then comes the happy ending. Well, sort of.
He buries his head between your legs, but is extra gentle with the way he moves. Nothing rash or hard. Just little licks and a lot of kisses, keeping you wet, as if he wants to relax you rather than “have sex” with you.
And while watching him work, you take the deepest breaths of your life to not make a sound.
“It’s okay, you can moan,” he graciously permits. “It doesn’t count as talking.”
He makes you whimper a little bit with his salacious spa treatment, but makes no effort to make you cum. Because this isn’t to make you cum.
True to his word, the man is literally just having breakfast.
“Time to go get ready for work,” he checks his watch when the alarm goes off, then starts clearing the table. “I’ll take care of this.”
You don’t know what to feel as you change. It’s like you’re in a limbo, stuck between cloud nine, ten, eleven and recurring car crashes. Does Jungkook have an actual motive here, or is he just winging it? If he’s winging it, why is he winging it like that?
If you somehow survive these twenty four hours and find yourself holding onto a shred of hope, you’re fucking doomed.
“Pencil skirt. Hot.”
It’s uncanny how he keeps manifesting when you’re mid-spiral, and this time, he aborts your self-talk as you do your finishing touches in the bathroom.
Come to think of it, this might be the very first time Jungkook sees you in business casual.
“If I was your boss, would you stay late for me?” he puts his hands on your hips, gently rubbing you. “Let me take the day’s stress out on you?”
You’re slowly starting to believe your own theory that he uses some sort of enhancement because just how can he be this horny all the time? He has to be on something!
But maybe it’s a bit contagious because you find yourself grinning at his reflection in the mirror with a nod.
“Of course you would. You’re my plaything,” he hikes your skirt up to your waist. “God, the way I’d make everyone die of jealousy, fucking you all over my office at all hours of the day.”
You stop moving as he drags your underwear down, watching him take his cock out in the mirror. It’s like you suddenly can’t multitask at all.
“Shh, just do your makeup,” he urges as he slides inside you.
This is like the breakfast table all over again. His thrusts are lazy because he doesn’t fuck you to cum. It’s just for fun. Just because he feels like snacking a little bit.
Fucking easier said than done—you’d like to see how he drafts his deposition when you suck his dick. Christ!
Once he gets his fill, he puts his pants back on, but removes your underwear altogether. He stares into your soul in the mirror as he licks it.
“No panties for you today. I’ll be keeping this,” he rolls the fabric into a ball and puts it in his pocket. “Oh, I almost forgot.”
He has something in his hand that looks like a microscopic vinyl sticker. He removes it from the paper and carefully places it right behind your ear, clearly loving what he sees.
“Beautiful,” he kisses your neck with a content smile. “Ready when you are.”
When he leaves the bathroom, you hold up a hand mirror to see what the heck you’ve just been branded with. It’s not a microchip to track your GPS or anything; it’s indeed a sticker of sorts that looks like a fake tattoo.
It just has the letters JK on it.
As Jungkook drives you to work, you try your best to come off your strange high to no avail. The fresh air that caresses your face, the coffee you’re sipping from the gigantic tumbler, nothing seems to work. Your heart still beats erratically, and you feel entirely disoriented.
“I’ll pick you up at 6, and we’ll get some dinner, okay?”
What?
So this tantric torture is supposed to continue outside. Very cool. You curse a mouthful at yourself for your self-fulfilling prophecy with the “Haha yeah the most he’ll ask is to suck his dick somewhere risky.” There you have it.
You nod at him and open the car door, but he grabs you by the arm before your feet can touch the ground.
“No kiss?”
JUST WHAT THE FUCK IS HIS PROBLEM?
That’s it. By the end of these twenty four hours, which suspiciously feel like forty eight, you’re going to have a massive meltdown. You’d like to call your lawyer to revise your last will and testament before you say goodbye to this cruel world, but unfortunately, your lawyer is Jeon Jungkook!
Yet he looks at you with such sad eyes that one has to be a heartless monster to say no to him. Of course you kiss him even though it’s horrendously domestic. You kiss him with too many butterflies in your stomach, and you start dying immediately when he lingers.
Free use, my ass. Dude’s straight up free using your heart.
You successfully make it to noon without going crazy. At least the ache between your legs seems to have soothed. There are no meetings scheduled and no fires to put out—it’s one of those legendary Pokémon status rare days where you can just lock in and be productive without any interruptions.
So naturally, that’s when your door opens without a knock, and Jeon fucking Jungkook struts in wearing one of his damn bespoke Pradas, looking like an absolute whore.
“Thanks, Aileen,” he flashes an extremely charming smile at your secretary, but when he closes the door, his face turns almost demonic. You stare at him with an expression that yells, “The FUCK are you doing here in your harlot attire?” pointing at the suit that seems brand new.
“Oh, this?” he dusts off his shoulder and adjusts his cuffs. “Figured I should look nice for our lunch date.”
You almost spurt the water you’re sipping on in a very Looney Tunes fashion, but he doesn’t seem like he’s joking. He approaches your desk in slow motion like the OG demon that invented lust and speaks very very quietly against your lips.
“Found this great restaurant that serves the best food,” he tugs your bottom lip down with his thumb. “Thought we could spend your lunch break there. Sounds good?”
You nod, unsure if you’re a little scared or massively turned on. Jungkook holds your hand and helps you get up, but when you reach for your bag, he suddenly stops you.
“I didn’t say the restaurant was outside,” he smirks, running his fingers down your cleavage. “I almost turned the fucking car around after dropping you off. I barely made it to lunch.”
He starts hiking your skirt up again, and your head inadvertently turns to the door.
“Shh, it’s fine,” he quietly reassures you. “Do you trust me?”
DO YA?
Just how many prophecies have you come up with within the span of a few days? It’s like every drastic “What if” you tried to workshop decided to go “Actually, nuh uh”, coming true one by one scarily fast.
But it’s Jungkook. If you’re not gonna trust him, then who can you possibly trust?
You eventually nod.
“Good girl,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Stay like this.”
You have no idea what the heck is going on when he lies on your desk out of nowhere. He lets his head dangle off the edge, looking up at you, then pulls you by your hips to mount your pussy on his mouth. Once he positions you, he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock, gently pressing on your back to lower yourself on him. You can’t believe that you oblige without so much as a “Uh, hello?” tap on the shoulder.
Are you… fucking sixty-nining this man on your DESK right now?
You can’t tell if it’s because of the gargantuan amounts of risk, but you don’t remember ever feeling this much thrill in your entire life. The heroinesque high seems to even change Jungkook’s taste as he fucks into your mouth. He’s suddenly this sweetest forbidden fruit that you have to take a bite from at least once a day, his decadent flavor growing more and more intense on your tongue. It’s as if time stops. You can’t perceive, nor care about anything that isn’t Jungkook. Just Jungkook’s taste. Jungkook’s scent. Jungkook’s pleasure. Jungkook.
Jungkook.
Jungkook.
When you convulse on his face with muffled moans, he finally lets go and floods you, holding onto your hips for dear life. He sounds completely out of it, and you’re no different. Consuming every last drop, you peel yourself off of him, wondering if he was relentlessly kissing you to nuke whatever inhibitions you may have.
Because you feel full-on drunk.
“Had to make it a standing lunch for time constraints. We’ll get a private room next time,” he bites your lips, then lands a playful smack on your ass. “See you in a few hours, beautiful.”
After Jungkook leaves, you just plop down on your chair, just zoning out. A literal case of “no thoughts, head empty”. The purpose of today is to have you spiral out of reality, apparently. What the heck just happened? Even when you were appraising the porn-tential of your office furniture yesterday, this wasn’t one of the possibilities.
On the bright side, you strangely feel full as if you’ve had a 10-course meal.
Unfortunately, the glow of the day ends there when Aileen drops a bombshell in your office, requiring you to get into a nasty fight with corporate communications. In the blink of an eye, it’s like your horny delusions only happened in your head because there is zero drop of elation left in your veins with how red you’re seeing.
“Oh, FUCK YOU, how many times are we gonna have to tell you to do your fucking JOB?!”
Your afternoon from hell reaches its climax with you fervently pacing in the room, spelling out extremely basic stuff on the phone, frothing at the mouth and getting frighteningly close to going on a rampage. You’re so deafened by your fury that you don’t even realize Jungkook is standing by your door until you turn around. Still cursing away, you check the time, then cover the receiver.
“It’s 5:30. You’re early,” you address Jungkook rather quietly, then immediately return to your call. “AS IF you know how to follow a deadline. I wasn’t talking to you!
“You’re talking,” he speaks, brows dangerously knit together.
“It’s work,” you echo his tone to a T before ending your call. “Oh, jesus fucking christ, just do whatever you want!”
You slam the receiver back in the cradle, rubbing your temples to come down from the extreme stress high. Meanwhile, someone doesn’t think you deserve that kind of break.
“You think this is a fucking game?”
You open your eyes and look at Jungkook, in sheer disbelief that he’s actually serious right now. The expression on his face reads like a mixture of anger and disappointment.
You should declare yourself a witch at your earliest convenience because the very thing you’ve been dreading to come true is actually coming true.
“Jungkook, this is—”
“Work, yeah,” he starts taking slow steps towards you. “What was the very first thing I told you? This does not happen at your convenience. It happens at mine.”
“I know, but it’s—”
“I asked you to think it over carefully, and I told you I own your life for 24 hours,” he recounts the terms of your deal you already know too well. “This is how you hold up your end of the bargain?”
“Will you calm the fuck down?!” you protest in frustration, quickly dimming your volume to a loud whisper. “If someone hears this, I’ll get fired!”
“Then you need to decide,” he stands right before you, barely two inches away. “You either trust me, or you don’t. There is no in between.”
Do you not trust him enough after all?
Jungkook is the most cautious man you know. He makes a living out of fine print and loopholes, which gives him some diabolical superpower that makes him think of conditions that never occur to anyone. It’s probably why he has a huge zero under his “Cases Lost” column.
And it would be a lie to say that his OCD meticulousness isn’t a huge source of reassurance for you.
“You either actually believe that I do shit with complete disregard of consequences on your life,” he continues slowly, “or you don’t.”
Jungkook is… the most cautious man you know. To the point of insufferable actually. And not too long ago, you even said it to him yourself.
You’d never do something without covering your own ass first. You’re way too cautious.
Why do you feel fucking duped all of a sudden?
“What were you talking to Aileen about this afternoon?” you ask him, slightly annoyed.
He doesn’t answer you. He’s not necessarily smiling, but something in his features has changed. You know that look from somewhere, and it makes you wanna choke him to death for playing elaborate tricks on you.
“I’ll ask you one last time,” he insists. “Do you or do you not trust me?”
“I do,” you reply with no pause this time.
“Show me.”
You have no idea how you can provide conclusive evidence that you trust him, so you do the only thing you can think of. You hold his face and kiss him, and Jungkook’s knees almost give way, quick to melt into your lips.
But when you pull away, he changes his personality at the snap of a finger like he’s changing shirts.
“Since you loooove talking so much, I’ll give you a few words to say,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “Apologize for your disobedience.”
Way to put you on the spot like that.
You don’t even know what anything is anymore. The lines between reality and make-believe are completely blurred. One minute, he is Jungkook; in the next, he is this repulsed-by-disobedience dom from hell.
Which one are you talking to?!
“I–I’m sorry,” you avert your eyes from him.
“Tsk, you can do better than that,” he purses his lips. “Apologize.”
What does he want exactly? If he had given you a syllabus that mentioned apology methods were going to be on the test, you would have surely studied accordingly!
“I… apologize,” you try your luck again.
“Still not convincing,” he shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”
He takes one more step towards you and puts his hands on either side, trapping you between him and the desk.
“Because you’re not sorry for what you’ve done, are you?” he leans in. “You’re sorry you got caught.”
He sneaks a hand under your skirt, caressing your pussy with a single finger. You gasp when he harshly turns you around, breathing down your neck just like the ultra HD porn that has manifested in your mind the day before.
“Are you gonna do it again?” he snarls into your ear.
“I won’t.”
“Promise me.”
“I–I promise.”
He reaches into his pocket and takes out the underwear he’s been carrying around the whole day, making you bite on it as a suppressor again. You hear the belt unbuckling behind you, and flames swallow your body whole.
“If you break your promise to me one more time,” he aligns his cock with your entrance, “I will not be so forgiving.”
He rams himself into you with a sharp thrust, but even though he moves hard, it’s no different than what’s been happening the entire day. He’s not fucking you to cum, nor is this a punishment. He just communicates with sex. It’s literally body language—when he gets mad, so does his body. When he feels calm, so are his touches.
“Get your stuff,” he puts his pants back on after maybe only ten seconds. “We’re leaving.”
After sufficiently collecting yourself, you walk out for the first time the whole day, and what you see, or rather don’t see, surprises you. There is no one outside.
It’s as if… someone told them to… vacate the floor… or something.
It’s tense when you get in the car. Real or not, Jungkook still looks super mad, but also super hot with his tongue pressed inside his cheek, driving with one hand with his legs spread wide. He takes an exit and gets on the freeway to beat the rush hour traffic. The road is empty. It’s silent. You have the optimal conditions to think of ways to get in his good graces again.
If you try the playful route, you’ll probably get hit with “Don’t get cute with me. I’m still mad at you.” If you get aggressive, it’ll probably make things worse. You think and think and think, and at long last, a lightbulb goes off in your head.
You can communicate with body language, too. With words that are “Up to his standards.”
Maybe he will find it creative.
“W–What are you doing?” he stutters in panic when you reach for his belt.
You act like he doesn’t even exist, just minding your own business, and take his cock out. You can see drops of you have dried on him, and it puts a perverse smile on your face. You start with a few licks to clean up after yourself, and soon after, he’s already melting in your mouth. One hand on your head, he guides you up and down, loving the way you work him.
When he hits a critical threshold, he switches to the left lane and slams on the gas.
The speedometer climbs to the right side as if to match your faster rhythm. The needle is at the one o’clock position when he tangles his fingers in your hair. Then two o’clock when you start moaning into him. Then three o’clock when you start sucking him harder.
Then four o’clock when you take him deep, deep down your throat.
“Oh, fuck. FUCK!!!”
His fingers let go of the wheel when he cums, and those two seconds he allows himself to possess no sanity are the hardest rush he feels his entire life. He’s so high that he is NUMB from head to toe. His autopilot abruptly kicks in, and he slows down, eventually pulling over and killing the engine. He leans back with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths and trying to come back down, but he’s at the stratosphere.
How are you not supposed to break into the most smug smile anybody has ever flashed with how proud you are?
You gently tap on his shoulder, and he somehow musters enough strength to roll his head to his right and half-open his eyes.
“You fucking killed me,” he quietly utters, extremely fucked out. “Switch with me. I forgot how to drive.”
“I believe I earned the right to talk now?” you rhetorically ask with annoying amounts of confidence.
“Oh, hell yeah, you even earned the right to make me your bitch for life,” he enthusiastically approves.
“It’s concerning that all it took was getting your dick sucked,” you roll your eyes.
“I may be a world-class whore, but you can’t catch me folding like a napkin just for anyone,” he instantly refutes. “Jesus, that was some god-tier head. I’m still seeing stars.”
“That means you fake-forgive me after your fake tantrum, I guess,” you knowingly smile at him. “But if I catch you telling my people to start fake fires to test me one more time, I’ll fucking kill you, Jeon.”
He smiles back and looks at you with something different in his eyes. Something that makes your heart race again. He reaches for your face and leans in, and when he kisses you in that darkness of the empty freeway, it feels like you’re back in your bed with him again.
“We’ll make a stop before dinner,” he puts in an address in the navigation and stretches one arm behind you. “Drive, baby.”
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𓄲 Your fingers find his hair, curling around the black strands and tugging on them in the way that would always have him groaning against you. This time is no different, even when he tries to force the sound back, teeth finding the tender skin where your neck meets your shoulder as he bites down in hopes of salvation.
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children) alcohol consumption and what do you know, there's porn: unprotected sex (pullout method) they indulge in a quickie kissing kissing hungry!jungkook blowjob (he cums down her throat)
⧽ word count ⋮ 11.2k
average reading time ⋮ 1 hour
── [ ✉️ ] This is like, so cute and so nasty. Ok well, it's not that nasty, I know what you ladies are up reading at night so don't try and fool me. But in the means of HW it is nasty, let's just say it like that. Jungkook is actually so hungry for her, by all means, but he's also a little awkward around her, love that. I also don't have any more porn planned for the series, it could change of course, but I wouldn't place my bets (the drabbles though...) Hm, yes. Cassian and Rayne are here too, because it wouldn't be HW without them. Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appreciated <3
series masterlist | last chapter | next part
chapter 20 — "Be Quiet"
Opening your textbook that Saturday morning felt like stepping into a world long forgotten. You had been so caught up in Rayne's birthday preparations, then there had been the dance — and Jungkook. It shamed you to admit that your studies had taken a backseat in favor of the Jeon family. With your final exam coming up before Christmas you were now paying the price of your ignorance
It didn't help that Daehyun had chosen the exact moment you sat down to get some work done to give you a call. An hour and a half later and you were still on the phone with him as he went on about his latest attempt at romance, which, given his track record, did not bode well.
"But I don't think he's ready for anything serious—" your friend sighs on the other end of the line, "I mean, he's only been taking me to hotels as of now. I haven't even gotten to see his place and he's been to mine multiple times."
Clutching a highlighter in your free hand, you underline a third paragraph on the page in front of you, not actually bothering to read the words written. "Mhm," you hum, frowning slightly when his statement actually registers, "Wait, he hasn't introduced you to anyone yet?" Tilting the phone slightly, you nudge it to your ear with the help of your shoulder.
Daehyun makes an offended noise, "No," he mutters begrudgingly. "And here I thought someone his age would at least have the balls to make a move on me outside of the bedroom."
You pause, highlighter pressing against the paper as the yellow color continues to bleed onto it. "How old is he again?"
There's a dramatic beat of silence before Daehyun scoffs, "Twenty-seven!" You can vividly imagine him throwing a hand in the air as he gestures wildly to a play-pretend audience. "Can you believe it?" He sounds as though he's ready to go on another rant only to be stopped by the disapproving click of your tongue.
"Dae…" You exhale, brows furrowing deep on your forehead.
"What?" He retorts defensively, "I don't want to hear anything from you, Ms I've got a thing for my boss who's thirty."
You cringe at that, fingers curling a little tighter around the highlighter as you stare at the wall in front of you. "It's not like that— And you're making it sound weird!" Pursing your lips, you roll the thick pen between your index and middle finger, "Besides, I do not have 'a thing' for him." The truth was that you had more than a thing for Jungkook, but admitting that to Daehyun of all people felt like a death sentence.
It was easy to forget that Jungkook actually paid you to see his children. That each day spent at the Jeon house was a transaction and should have stayed that way. Your free hand traces the corner of the open page. Falling in love with both Cassian and Rayne had never been part of the plan — least of all had the intimate moments you shared with their father been. Now you feared you were in far too deep to ever be rescued, the worst part was that even if such an opportunity did presented itself — you knew you wouldn't take it.
There's rustling on the other side of the line as Daehyun shifts to get comfortable, likely laying in bed with his phone cord wrapped around himself. "Hey, I ain't say there was anything wrong with it. I'm just stating the facts of your situation and judging by what you've told me, he sounds a great deal better than whatever dude I let stick it up my ass."
"Okay— Okay, I didn't need any explicit details about your sex life, Dae." Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to force the picture of your friend from your mind. Unfortunately in doing so, you manage to open a door you had not intended to. Images of Jungkook instead flood your vision, images of his lips, parted and red, hovering just inches from your own.
The afternoon you had spent together all those weeks ago, the quiet intimacy of his chest pressed against yours, his hands on your body, his mouth on—
"Say," Daehyun drawls, "Is he more man than my recent fuck?"
His question startles you from your thoughts and you blink. "What?" you huff, confusion lacing your words, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Your friend heaves a breath, like the answer was written in front of you. "I mean, has he made a move on you?"
Made a move? Jungkook? You swallow the lump that sits in your throat, hoping the crappy landline won't pick up on it. Memories of all the stolen moments between you return. The way he'd kissed you for the first time in his study that night over a month ago — pulling away like he'd committed a crime. You think of all the touches he'd let linger after your shared afternoon together, the caresses to your waist, the kisses to your neck, lips…
You knew that keeping whatever it was the two of you had going on a secret from the children was important. But Daehyun was not someone you had to keep things from, so why did it feel so difficult to tell him? Perhaps it was because telling him would mean confirming that it had actually happened, that it was real and not just a figment of your imagination or a fantasy you had conjured during late nights alone in bed.
"Well he…" Your index finger finds the cord that ties your phone to its machine and you toy with it idly. "He's been pretty clear I guess," you murmur, almost shyly as heat crawls to your face.
Daehyun could've easily made a back flip on his end of the phone, but if you had to guess, he'd simply shot up straight from whatever position he'd been lounging in. "No way!" he practically shouts, the excitement radiating off of him, "How far have you gone?"
The chair creaks under your weight as you shift on it awkwardly. While it wasn't uncommon for Daehyun to share all about his sexual endeavors, you had never been on the giving end of the exchange between you.
Your silence seems to do the job though because a moment later you hear him snicker on the other side the line. "You dirty little minx," he practically squeals, "Tell me everything!"
You're thankful for the distance between you at the moment. The last thing you needed was him cooing at your flustered expression or the way you chewed on your bottom lip. "I don't know what there's to say…" Shrugging, you put the highlighter down, finger tapping softly against it as you ponder an answer that would satisfy him without leading to more prying.
"What is there not to say?" Daehyun is radiating on his end, the sound of his mattress groaning loudly as he shifts on top of it. "What was he like? Was he good?" The teasing lilt to his voice is unmistakable and it has you tightening your grip on the phone, hard enough for it to crack.
"Yeah," the admission leaves you in a breathless whisper, "Like…really good." And he had been. You don't think you had ever felt touch like his before, it was like he knew exactly when and where to linger, how to move, how to breathe with you. Shaking your head, you try to brush past the unwelcome visions of his head between your legs.
Daehyun, however, is far from finished with this conversation as it just took a most interesting turn. "What did I tell you? Guys his age know what they're doing. So tell me—"
Your friend is just about to pry further when the device in your hand suddenly beeps loudly, effectively pulling your attention toward the familiar sequence of numbers that had appeared on the screen, signaling you of a different caller. "Dae, I might have to call you back," you say when going over the numbers a second time.
There's a short pause before Daehyun's speaks, "Wait what—?" The confusion only lasts a second though, "Oh. Is it him? It has to be, why else would you hang up on your beautiful best fr—"
"Okay, bye!"
The relief that floods you by ending the ongoing call with Daehyun quickly evaporates as you realize that you would be answering the man who's abilities in bed you had just been discussing. A small grimace tugs at your features and you blink twice when bringing the phone back to your ear, pressing a button on the machine to allow the lines to connect.
For a while all you hear is the static, bruising noise coming from the other end and you clear your throat awkwardly to greet him, "Hello?"
You and Jungkook had spoke very little when he returned home last night. Having put Cassian to bed by eight, just as instructed, you met the pair by the front door as Jungkook stepped inside. He'd been carrying a sleeping Rayne in his arms, the look on his face serene as he regarded his daughter.
When you had asked how the night went he'd simply smiled — a smile so rare for someone like him. Then he'd told you that he would be taking her to bed. He thanked you for your help but his eyes never strayed from the girl in his arms. Once he began climbing the stairs you'd decided that it was best you take your leave and give him the rest of the night alone with his sleeping children.
So to accept a call from him, on a Saturday no less, was rather unexpected. "Good afternoon," Jungkook's voice startles you slightly and you turn in your seat to peer at the clock over by the couch. It was already nearing 1pm, how long had you and Daehyun been on the phone?
"Yes… Afternoon," You hum, gaze flickering to the discarded highlighter, laying across your open textbook. Without its cap on the ink was running dry and you glance around in search for the missing piece.
On the other end of the line there's a pause before Jungkook continues, "I'm aware that it's your day off," he says, "But I have to leave for the office, rather unexpectedly. If you're busy I understand, I'm sure I can make arrangements with their grandparents or—"
"I'm free."
The response pours out of you in a second, cutting him off mid-sentence as your fingers curl around the phone a little tighter. You were actually busy, but as you close up your textbook you knew that your mind was made up.
You can hear his exhale through the static of the phone — he sounds relieved. "That's good," he then says, "I would come pick you up myself, I just cannot leave the children at home."
"Oh, I'm just fine taking the bus, no worries." you assure him, finally finding the cap of your highlighter as you seal it in place with a click.
Jungkook is quiet for some time, until he finally asks, "Will you at least let me pay the bus fare?"
His suggestion makes you freeze from where you had been leaning over to stuff the yellow pen back in the jar that held the rest. Brows scrunching together, "You already pay me enough," you tell him when rising to your feet, "I'll be there in half an hour."
He doesn't argue with you on the matter, sighing on his end, giving in with a soft 'Alright' before allowing you to disconnect the call.
You don't hesitate as you gather your things, trying to keep the excitement in your chest at bay as the lock twists, sealing your front door and leaving you to scurry down the stairs.
The buses were not as lenient during the weekends, rather than every fifteen minutes they ran every thirty, making your trip to the Jeon house slightly longer than usual. You've brought your study material — this time without fear of Jungkook stumbling across it. You figured you should at least try to revise for the upcoming exam.
Snow stubbornly clings to your sneakers as you walk down the pavement. It smears even further when you attempt to brush it off with the opposite foot, white clumps quickly melting through the fabric and soaking into your socks. "Stupid shoes," you mutter when pushing the gate to the Jeon estate open, still trudging forward with your head bowed.
In fact, you were so caught up in the disappointment of your cold and wet feet that you don't bother glancing up when heading toward the steps of the front porch. Perhaps had you been a little more attentive you would have noticed the obstacle of another person before you crashed into them.
Forehead slamming against something hard, you tumble back with a small 'oof', already reaching up to soothe the throb in your temple. "Are you okay?" The sound of Jungkook's voice makes your head spin even more so than the impact of his shoulder where it had smacked across your face. His fingers brush against your wrist as he guides your chilly hand away to assess the damage himself.
Upon further inspection, and a slight clearing of your rattled mind, you realize that he'd been outside even before your arrival. Had it not been for the white layer that dusts his dark hair and the coat he wears — then the faint redness to his nose was a dead giveaway.
"I'm fine," shrugging nonchalantly, you raise him a brow, "What are you doing out here?"
Jungkook blinks once, lips parting as he lets his touch fall from your arms and takes a small step back. "I was just leaving," jerking his chin in the direction of his car, you follow his line of sight. Upon turning back to the thick and fluffy snow that layers his shoulders, not to mention the rosy tint to his cheeks, his lie becomes blatant.
"I never got to thank you for yesterday," he then says, frowning when you shake your head dismissively, obviously offended that you would brush his gratitude off. "I'm serious," he presses, "What you did for Rayne, it meant a lot to her — to me. Thank you."
His leaps seal together in a thin line after that as he regards you expectantly. You know that you should probably say something, fill the silence that had followed his words. But your mind was slow to even comprehend the weight of what he'd just told you. Inhaling a lungful of cold air, you give him a small but genuine smile.
"It meant a lot to me as well," you say, "I'm glad."
The distant rustle of tree branches swaying in the afternoon breeze is all that can be heard. A few birds — the ones who hadn't fled for warmer climates — chirp above, their song carrying through the wind. Jungkook's gaze lingers on a raven, sitting on a lower twig that extends from the trunk.
"I should get going," he murmurs when turning back to you. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, he clears his throat swiftly, "The children are in the living room," he says, "Door's unlocked."
You nod, fingers clasped together and you move forward as you attempt to step past him — only for Jungkook to do the same. Your face pulls into a sheepish expression and you quickly try to correct yourself by going in the other direction. Unfortunately he seems to have the same idea and you end up chest to chest a second time.
"Sorry," you chuckle as you come to a stop. Jungkook does the same, hands returning to your elbows as his fingers curl around your arms through the thick material of your coat. He gently steers you to the right, allowing you to step around each other without more fuss.
Thanking him under your breath, you quickly head up the stairs as he walks to his car. When climbing the three steps you have to force yourself not to turn back around and steal one final glance at him. You do a decent job, making it all the way to the front door with one hand wrapped around it — only to immediately whip your head over your shoulder as Jungkook suddenly calls out.
He's standing by the driver's door, a clenched fist resting atop its roof. "I was just—" His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, chapped by the cold air. "Well, Cassian has been asking but I think both children would like it if—" His jaw clenches as he struggles through the sentence.
You stand frozen by the door, fingers nearly slipping from the metal handle. New snow falls and though you're shielded by the slanted roof that extends over the front porch — Jungkook isn't. Flakes catch on his dark brows where they pinch together. He sighs, averting his gaze before quickly forcing it back.
He looks like he's working up courage — the awkward roll of his shoulders and the stiffness in his posture. It reminds you of that one time in third grade when, Mike, your desk mate, had shyly asked you to the school dance with him. He had been all nervous glances and stuttered words but it had been the highlight of your year.
Jungkook looks much like him right now, and had you not been so anxious to hear the rest of what he had to say, you would've probably found it rather endearing.
Finally he gathers his bearings, palm flattening against the roof of his car. "I was just wondering if you would like to spend Christmas with us, the children, me." The question hangs between you for only a second, barely enough for you to fully process it until he starts talking again:
"I mean, Cassian would really appreciate it. We usually spend it at their grandparents' but if you have plans I understand. Just thought I should ask so that I could give him an answer to—"
"I would love to."
The smile stretches to your ears and you don't even attempt to hide it. Your parents were set to be out of your hometown for the holidays, only returning back before new years which was when you planned to see them. This would mark your first Christmas away from home — not having to spend it alone but rather with the children, and Jungkook, made your heart flutter in your chest.
By his car, Jungkook exhales a breath. His frame morphs from tense to relaxed and when he catches the sight of your beaming grin, the corner of his own lip twitches. He nods, a subtle tilt of his chin. Then he opens the car door and gets inside, letting it fall shut after him.
You turn back to the door, gripping the knob with newfound excitement as you prepare to step inside.
The children are in the living room, just as Jungkook had promised. Rayne sits on one of the sofas, comfortably reclined back with a book in her lap. She lifts her gaze upon your arrival, though doesn't say anything — but her brother does.
"Nanny!"
Cassian, who'd been in the middle of smearing crayons across the papers scattered on the coffee table, perks up when he finds you in the doorway. The drawings are all but forgotten about as he jumps to his feet, hurrying over on short legs as he tugs you into a hug that would've probably knocked you off your feet, had he been a little taller.
"Hi, sweetie." It's instinctive, the way your arms loop around his tiny body to reciprocate the embrace. His face nuzzles against your stomach, a content smile plastered on his lips. "What have you been up to today?"
The young boy immediately perks up at the inquiry, big, brown eyes meeting yours as he reaches for your sleeve. "I'll show you," he says as he tugs you over to the coffee table where the two of you sink to the floor beside one another.
He moves with purpose as he shoves the crayons aside, organizing the multiple drawings before you to line them up. "This one," he points to one of the images. The lines are a wobbly and uneven, the colors scribbled messily together but you still thought you could make out two stick figures that resembled a little boy and a woman. "That's you and me when we played hide and seek in the garden."
Upon further inspection you can find what appears to be trees in the background. Their leaves consist of oranges and yellows, meant to resemble the last of autumn that still clung to nature that afternoon. "I remember," you hum, tracing the corner of the paper slowly, "You were counting too fast."
"Was not," Cassian interjects with a small pout.
From there he goes on to present the array of drawings, all representing different parts of the family, some including you, others not. He finally lands on one that makes you pause. It's a painting with all four of you, the only one of its kind. But that's not what catches your attention, no, it's the large pine tree in the middle. It's decorated with colorful lights, and beneath it lay square boxes.
Cassian goes quiet, milk teeth locking around his bottom lip. "That's us on Christmas," he gestures vaguely to the drawing, "Daddy was going to ask you to come." He hesitates, stealing a quick peek at you through the corner of his eye.
"He did," you muse, plucking the painting with careful fingers as you take a closer look. The picture shows you and the young boy holding hands, his sister and father are doing the same. "I told him I would love to come."
The look of pure joy that lit up Cassian's face was like that of the sun's rays in summer. He flashes you all of his teeth — save for the small gap on his bottom row. "You will come?" he repeats, like he had to double check to make sure you were being truthful. When you nod in confirmation he wiggles on the spot, "Hooray!"
"Our nana makes the best cookies and papa always lets me help put the lights on the tree!" It sounds as though he's already planning for the entire day, he rambles on about presents, food and different games you're going to be playing. You can all but match his grin as you listen to him excitedly talk.
Allowing yourself a glance in Rayne's direction has your eyes meeting for a split second before she promptly turns back to the book in her lap, pretending like she'd been reading all along. Guilt knots in your stomach, perhaps she did not want you to come. Christmas was for family after all and though you had been invited you couldn't help but feel like maybe you were intruding on something you shouldn't.
"I actually bumped into him right outside," You muse, attempting to brush the unease aside with simple conversation. That only makes the young girl tense, her grip on the novel tightening.
"That's weird," She says, not taking her gaze off the page, "Father left long before you came, he said he was late for a meeting."
You fall quiet at that — in fact the entire living room does. It's not broken until you let out an awkward chuckle that does little to play up the mood. So instead you turn to her younger brother, picking up the smile that had faded ever so slightly. "What did you ask Santa for?" you wonder, trying to steer the conversation away from Jungkook's odd behavior.
Cassian hums thoughtfully, "A dinosaur and a car figurine, oh and new crayons, the ones with rainbow colors!"
"Rainbow?" you cock a brow at that, "There's a rainbow colored crayon?" You don't think you had ever heard of anything like that but he eagerly nods as he jumps into explanation.
"Yes," Cassian points to his existing crayons, scattered across the coffee table, "It's a special. Only Santa makes it, that's why I put it on my list so I can have one."
Across the table Rayne scoffs, she's put the book down and is now watching her brother with a narrowed gaze. "Santa isn't real, he can't make you a rainbow crayon," she states at as a matter-of-factly, one hand tucking her ponytail down her shoulder.
"Well that's not true," you say when you notice the solemn look on the young boy's face, "Santa is just as real as you and me."
"How do you know that?" Cassian asks as he peers up at you through dark lashes.
You shrug, "Because I've met him of course."
His eyes go wide as saucers at that, lips parting in a quiet gasp to which he quickly swallows with a squeal. "Really? You've really met Santa?" On the couch opposite you, Rayne scoffs under her breath but you ignore her.
"Sure have," you say, "He was creeping 'round downstairs, very loudly might I add, he even woke me up from my sleep. So I quietly crept down the stairs, and do you know what I saw?"
Cassian leans closer, shaking his head mutely and you bite back a giggle. "I saw a big man, with a white beard and red clothes — eating my cookies! Can you believe it?" You wave a hand aimlessly, "I was furious of course, I told him that those were mine and that I had been saving them for the morning."
"What did he say? What did he say?" He asks, fingers clawing at his own knees as he tries to contain his excitement.
Humming out a soft breath, you continue, "Well he said that he needed the cookies. You see Santa gets real hungry going to each house on Christmas Eve. He promised me that I would get a special gift in return, as a thank you for the treats." Leaning back against the edge of the couch, you stretch your legs out in front of you. "The next morning when I woke up there was a big present under the tree, can you guess who it was from?"
"Santa!" Cassian looks overjoyed at the story, his earlier gripe with his sister quickly fading at the thought of meeting the white-bearded man himself some day. "Do you think I will see him?"
"Without a doubt," you promise him as you ruffle his dark hair. Looking back the man in your kitchen had likely been your dad, geared up in his costume and snacking away on your cookies. But your sleep-addled, six year old brain had been unable to piece that together and the moment was allowed to live on as such until you turned thirteen and your old pops had the audacity to ruin it. But seeing the excitement in Cassian's eyes was more than enough to mend the broken memory.
He goes back to drawing shortly after, this time depicting images of Santa himself, his sleigh and his reindeer — to the best of his abilities of course. You sit back comfortably on the floor, content to watch him work, even though you should probably pull out the textbooks you had brought with you and get some studying done.
The idea has been tossed back and forth in your mind for a good five minutes without you coming to a decision when Rayne suddenly clears her throat. "Nanny?" she asks, her voice loud in the reigning silence. You immediately perk up at being addressed, a quiet 'hm?' passing your lips. She hesitates, fingers curling around a page in her book as she fiddles with it. A couple of seconds pass where she doesn't speak, then she wills herself to meet your gaze.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Out of every question you'd been expecting, this one had been at the very bottom of your list. It stuns you entirely and for a while you simply stare at her. "Boyfriend—?" you splutter, disguising your cough with an awkward huff.
Rayne nods, she sits perfectly still on the cushion, her eyes tracking you up and down like she was trying to figure something out. Cassian had stopped drawing and was now watching you as well, a faint frown on his face. "You're…" she pauses, "You're pretty. You know how to do the pretty things with my hair and stuff." Rayne gestures vaguely between you as she references back to last night.
The compliment warms your chest, and cheeks, making you rub the back of your neck sheepishly. "Ah, thank you, sweetie." Pursing your lips, you then shake your head. "I don't have a boyfriend." The admission feels a little stiff but you try not to let it show as you carry on with a soft chuckle.
Rayne seems satisfied with that answer, her attention lingers a moment longer before it returns to her book — only to be torn from the pages as Cassian suddenly exclaims, "You don't have a boyfriend?" He appears genuinely conflicted by this information, it didn't make sense at all to him.
"But nanny, you're cute. Why don't you have one?" His bottom lip is stuck out into a pout, cupids bow arched in a frown as he studies you closely. When you simply shrug the gears seem to turn even faster in his tiny head. "I know—" He then says and you feel your heart drop to your stomach at what that might mean.
Cassian twists his body toward you, chest puffing up to appear bigger as he puts on a bright smile. "I can be your boyfriend!"
You hope he doesn't catch the relieved exhale you let out, shaking your head as a giggle erupts between you. Before you can answer him though, Rayne butts in, "You can't do that, silly. Nanny is a grown-up."
This only brings back her younger brother's previous confusion and he begins chewing on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Okay…" he murmurs, fingers picking at a lock of hair, "Then I will be your boyfriend when I'm a grown-up." He gives himself a reaffirming nod, like the decision had just been finalized and you couldn't find it in you to argue against it.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea," you hum as you give his cheek a gentle pat. You thought you could hear Rayne grumble something under her breath but she refrains from saying anything else as she goes back to her book.
The rest of the afternoon was spent in the living room. You finally pulled out your textbook, flicking it open on the page where you had left off at home. Cassian was greatly interested in all the pictures, pointing at different parts of the human lungs as he asked questions.
As it turns out, he was a great study-buddy. You could dump all sorts of information on him, explaining and then re-explaining things in simpler terms as you went through the notes you had taken. He listened with fascinated eyes and though you were sure he probably understood about half of what you told him, it was a good way for you to revise the material.
By dinner time you all cooked together, even Rayne helped taste-test the sauce you had made — only for her brother to spill some on his shirt when he tried snatching the spoon from her.
Jungkook did not arrive back home until you had tucked them both into bed. You were halfway through Cassian's third bedtime story and he had just drifted off when the sound of the front door unlocking could be heard. You listened to the sound of footsteps as he climbed the stairs, for a second they almost made you believe that he was headed for Cassian's room. They had stopped just outside his closed door, a dark silhouette filling the light beneath the crack. Then they had faded again, another door creaking before closing softly — his study presumably.
You had stayed by Cassian's bed a little longer than needed, taking your time when putting the books back on their shelf, tucking him in once, then once more for good measure.
Finally you head out into the hall, your eyes immediately drifting to the door which you knew you would find Jungkook behind — feet leading you there on their own. The picture of him out in the snow earlier today still lingers fresh in your mind. As does the nervous stutter to his speech and you half expect to find him in a similar state now.
The door to Jungkook's study is agonizingly loud upon being pushed open. You allow yourself a sparse couple of inches, just enough to poke your head inside and inform him of your departure. Shadows swallow almost the entirety of the room and had it not been for the lamp on his desk, casting a soft halo across the papers he sifts through — it would have been pitch black.
Jungkook sits in his chair, glasses low on the bridge of his nose, which he scrunches when lifting a finger to push them further up. He has yet to notice you, too lost in the corporate world that seems to consume him entirely.
He does not look at all like he had this afternoon. Perhaps it was the wear of the long day that had weighed down his otherwise youthful appearance. He still looked handsome of course — but there was something else that clung to the air around him right now.
You clear your throat, tongue pressing against the roof of your mouth when his eyes meet yours from across the small room. "The children are asleep…" He knows that already, the house had been basked in silence since his return home after all.
He nods but his attention doesn't return to the files in front of him like you had expected for it to. Instead he regards you quietly, the way that always makes you wonder what he was thinking about. He would not tell you, of course, he rarely did. Another tense five seconds pass where neither of you speak. Your fingers have began tapping idly against the doorknob as a means to distract yourself.
"Cassian spilled sauce on his shirt during dinner. He didn't want me telling you but I thought I should in case the stain doesn't come off," a breath later you add, "Though I soaked it in cold water so it should be fine." You were rambling nonsense but said nonsense was better than the strange and awkward silence that had found its way between you.
Jungkook simply repeats his previous motion, tilting his chin in acknowledgement as he traces the edge of the paper in front of him. You notice that the liquor is sealed within its cabinet, waiting behind closed doors to be drank — he hadn't reached for it tonight.
"Do you want a glass?"
The sudden question makes you pause, gaze flitting back to the man before you. Jungkook is watching you with an expectant look, having let go of the pages to place his hands on the armrests of his chair. He must have noticed your wandering eyes but the offer still takes you by surprise.
"I…" Your throat feels dry and for a moment the thought of something to take the edge off didn't seem like such a bad idea. Though one glance at the clock above the cabinet makes you rethink. "I shouldn't. I mean—" shaking your head, "Last bus leaves in a little bit. I better be on my way."
His brows draw together at that and for a split second Jungkook looks almost disappointed. He quickly masks it again, schooling his features into their default wear. But when he opens his mouth to speak, the words that spill from his lips are not what you had expected: "You're leaving already?"
The cough lodges itself halfway up your throat, fingers curling a little harder around the doorknob as you sway on unsteady feet despite being stone cold sober. Was he asking you to stay? Your next breath comes out in a short puff and you have to shove the confusing thoughts aside to focus on giving him a proper response.
"Well— No, I mean," swallowing thickly, "I have some time to spare…"
Jungkook's chair squeaks against the floorboards when he rises to his feet and you watch with wide and unblinking eyes as he makes his way over to the liquor cabinet. Taking it as your cue to actually step inside, you do so, letting the door fall shut behind you soundlessly.
"Any requests?" He asks when he unhooks both glass doors, swinging them open to showcase the bottles inside.
Your feet carry you over to stand beside him — close enough to feel the heat of his body that radiates from him like a furnace. Scanning the options presented before you whilst chewing on your lip, you go over the labels once, twice. Jungkook's taste matched him perfectly, all expensive brands, half of which you did not dare attempt to pronounce. Their amber shades stare back at you daringly.
He must notice your hesitation, for a moment later he reaches for the one bottle you recognized — the whiskey. His arm brushes yours when he retrieves it, and it somehow sends a jolt of electricity through you despite the touch being mundane in comparison to how intimate you had been.
Jungkook doesn't linger on the brief caress as he grabs two glasses in his free hand, turning to place them onto his desk with a soft clink. And after busying yourself with shutting the cabinet doors, you join him by the table — looking on as he pushes the sleeves of his button up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos you'd spent so long tracing. The memory makes your chest hot even though the alcohol had yet to touch your lips.
His shirt is generously unbuttoned, revealing the faint outline of his chest when he leans forward to pour the whiskey. "You don't drink often I take it?" He asks without lifting his gaze from the glasses which he filled to about a quarter.
"No," you hum, "Not really…" Aside from the drinks you and Daehyun went out to grab after rough exams, your experience with any kind of liquor was very sparse. Your attention lingers on the amber liquid that swirls within the glasses, glimmering softly under the glow of his desk lamp.
Jungkook hands you one of them and you take it with a quiet 'Thanks' as you try not to think about the way your fingers ended up nudging. He nods as he takes a sip of his drink and you find yourself doing the same — cringing slightly as the burn scratches down your throat. You hadn't drank since last time you found yourself in here, back then your emotions had been high enough to cancel out the strong and invasive flavor of the whiskey.
Stillness clings to the air between you, with only the faint ticking of the clock on the wall to fill the silence. You distract yourself with another small sip, only to immediately regret it as your nose scrunches. Jungkook catches the flicker of distaste, cocking a brow as he brings his own glass to his lips.
"What do you kids drink then?" He wonders before swallowing more liquor.
You shrug, free hand caressing the mahogany wood of his table as you perch yourself on its edge. "I don't know, cheap booze— beer mostly." The splinters creak under your weight but you ignore it as you shift to get comfortable — or as comfortable as you could get with him standing so close.
Jungkook hums, "Do you like it?" His eyes never stray from where they had come to settle on yours, shielded by his dark lashes, it looked almost as though he was trying to guess your answer before you could give it.
Shaking your head, you let the pad of your thumb stroke the bottom of your glass. "God, no. I only drink when I'm out." Tilting your gaze from the drink you hold and up to his hooded eyes, you ask, "Do you?"
He mimics you with a shake of his own head, "No," he says, following it with another long sip. The glasses, still perched over the bridge of his nose, reflect in the dim lights and you become almost entranced by the subtle flicker. "Do you go out often?" He then wonders, and you tried to figure out why he was asking so many questions all of a sudden.
"Rarely" you admit, trying to keep your tone indifferent as you sip on the whiskey, "Why?"
Jungkook gives a noncommittal roll of his shoulders. "Kids your age love to party, no?" He delivers it casually but the statement still makes you frown as you clutch your glass a little tighter.
"Are you calling me a kid?" You can't help the edge of defensiveness that sneaks its way into your voice as you eye him warily. "Or are you implying that there is something wrong with me not partying?"
For a long moment he says nothing, simply regarding you over the rim of his own glass. He doesn't bring it up for another taste, doesn't lower it either. The corner of his lip twitches, "Neither," he says.
You huff at the almost taunting response, turning your head in an act of pettiness. It works because a second later the floor creaks as Jungkook takes a step closer. The hand that isn't currently nursing his drink finds a crease in your jeans, fingers pinching the fabric as he smooths it out again — like the sight bothered him.
"Good." You're still not looking at him, eyes fixed to the clock on the wall as it counts down the seconds until you're forced to part from him. "I'm not a kid. And I enjoy myself just fine whenever I so please," you add before silencing yourself with another sip of the whiskey.
Jungkook hums, having let go of your jeans entirely, his magnifying touch disappears before it returns, this time to the hot skin of your face — heated by the alcohol and his proximity. His thumb strokes the line of your jaw as he gently guides you to look at him again. "I know," he says.
Whatever offense still lingered from his previous comment ebbs away when your eyes meet his and your shoulders slump as your hold on the glass loosens.
"How much longer until your bus leaves?" He asks, fingers warm against your feverish skin.
You swallow, wondering if the liquor was finally taking effect or if he'd been looking at you like that all along. "Twenty minutes," you murmur, "But I need five to get to the stop."
He doesn't respond right away, only watching you intently, like he was considering something. "That's fifteen minutes then," his thumb finds your bottom lip, the caress he gives it is light — teasing almost. "Will you enjoy yourself with me for those fifteen?"
The innuendo hidden beneath the almost whispered words is clear and it makes your heart pound hard against your ribcage. Without answering you bring the glass to your lips, praying that the ill-tasting whiskey might give you the same courage you had inhabited on that sunny afternoon.
Jungkook regards you intently, his fingers lingering on your jaw, tilting your head back to have the liquor slide down your throat easier. Through the corner of your eye you can make out the path his other hand takes as it discards the glass which he'd barely touched. Then he steps impossibly close, gaze dropping to your half-finished drink before gently taking it from your grasp.
"You didn't answer my question," He murmurs upon setting the glass down alongside his own. There's a barely noticeable crease etched between his dark brows, as though your lack of response troubled him. It makes you smile, an easy smile that feels silly compared to the storm in your chest.
Only when you realize where you are and what time it is does your face fall. Your mind wanders to Cassian and Rayne in their rooms. "But the children—"
"Are asleep," Jungkook finishes for you, his palm coming to rest against your cheek. This was different from last time. No raised voices, no big living room to let you catch your breath — only the hard surface of his desk under you, and the warmth of his body but an inch from your own.
He's so close that the slightly uneven exhales he releases fan across your face. His eyes are dazed with something beyond the desire you had noted in them on that day. Was he seeing something beyond just the intimacy of two people? You almost dared to hope…
Jungkook swallows and you trace the bob of his Adam's apple. "I'll beg if I have to," He rasps, thumb pressing lightly against your cheekbone.
That single line undoes the last of your hesitation and without giving yourself time to think it over, you close the remaining distance to press your lips against his. Your eyes fall shut as you let yourself linger in darkness, focusing only on the way his mouth parts against yours without being told.
His hand is careful where it cradles your face, the other claiming your waist as he tugs you dangerously close to the edge of the desk. Jungkook always kissed you sweetly — there was never any sloppy meshes of tongues or uncomfortable clashes of teeth. But tonight time is against you, the clock ticks faster somewhere in the distance, reminding you of your eventual departure.
"We need to hurry," you breathe against him, shuddering when he pulls back to rest his forehead to yours, the glasses he had yet to take off bumping against your nose.
Through lidded eyes you can make out the subtle clench of his jaw, the nod he pairs with a rough exhale. He straightens up, the hand on your face falling to your waist as he mirrors the other. Then he casts a glance toward the clock on the wall, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek.
For a moment you think he might just step away, press a chaste kiss to your temple with the promise of finding time another day. But when Jungkook turns back to you, his usually brown eyes are almost black with desire, brows pinched with determination you rarely saw in him.
His palms burn through the jeans you wear when they hook under your thighs, hoisting you from your spot on the very edge of the table and up against his chest. Your legs wrap awkwardly around his hips, arms looping behind his neck as your lips find his jaw, lavishing it in soft kisses.
The chair he'd been lounging on just minutes prior is kicked aside as Jungkook steps into its spot. He shifts your weight onto one arm, the other blindly swiping away the papers he'd been working on. They scatter in all directions, mixing together in an unorganized mess, though Jungkook doesn't seem to care for it as he cranes his neck to find your lips.
He sets you down on the now-cleared surface of his desk, you land with a soft thud right in the center, legs falling open to accommodate him between them. His tongue tastes like the whiskey you shared when it slides past your lips, and you welcome him eagerly with a sighed moan. Jungkook's hands — having returned to your hips — give a firm squeeze that startles you just as much as it spurs you on.
His lips hover above your own, saliva smearing together in the aftermath of your kiss. He lifts one hand, knuckles brushing your chin ever so carefully as he closes your open mouth with a simple nudge. "Need you to stay quiet," he whispers, nose brushing along your cheek, "Unfortunately."
You nod, even when it takes everything in you not to force your lips back together. Running the risk of waking the children was not something you'd had to be mindful of last time. And as much as the idea of startling them from sleep terrified you, it also made your stomach coil tight with heat. Judging by the way Jungkook was kissing down your neck, his tongue tracing the column of your throat, he must feel the same.
Your fingers find his hair, curling around the black strands and tugging on them in the way that would always have him groaning against you. This time is no different, even when he tries to force the sound back, teeth finding the tender skin where your neck meets your shoulder as he bites down in hopes of salvation.
His hands are clumsy when they find the zipper of your jeans, hooking around it before tugging it open — leaving you to squirm on top of the mahogany as you help him slide the denim down your legs. The air of his study is chilly from a window being left open too long but Jungkook's touch warms your naked skin in a heart beat as his palms move up and down your thighs.
It's not until he feels you reach for the buckle of his belt that he finally tears himself from your neck. Ragged breaths leave his reddened lips and he stares at you with thinly veiled impatience that matches the frantic movement of your fingers, currently undoing the clunky piece of metal. It falls apart in your grasp as it unlocks the last barrier between you.
Jungkook's hands are everywhere all at once, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt to feel up your sides, hovering just shy at the edge of your bra. All the while you focus on getting his pants out of the way.
You make the mistake of glancing toward the clock once more, eyes widening at the rapid speed the minute handle seems to be moving at. "Eleven minutes," you murmur as your fingers hook around the waistband of his dress pants.
The words have barely left your lips as Jungkook slams his own back on them, stealing your next exhale with a kiss that felt unlike any of the others you had previously shared. The mask he wore with pride slipped just enough to let his teeth trap your bottom lip, eliciting a soft squeal from you which he tries to silence with his mouth.
He swats your at hands, dismissing them from their feeble attempts at getting him undressed. The buckle of his belt hits the edge of the desk, dangerously close to one of your knees, as he shoves his pants down enough to free himself of their captivity. One hand on your hip, the other wraps around his cock, a shaky sigh following the rough stroke he gives himself.
Without warning he curls a finger around the lining of your panties, tearing them down to rest at the crook of your knees and leaving you bare — the sudden intrusion of cold air makes you gasp against his lips.
"Sorry," Jungkook whispers, fingers brushing over your exposed cunt as he tries to soothe the chill with warm touch. His thumb is not as precise as it had been that afternoon when it finds your clit. He's quick, almost rough rather than slow and calculated as he rubs you in small circles, making you instinctively arch against the heel of his hand.
His index finger teases your fluttering hole — like he debated on pushing it in — but time was against you, he knew that, and the idea is dropped again as Jungkook pulls his hand away entirely.
You trap the whine that builds in your throat by sealing your lips together. The disappointment of his absence disappears the second you feel his cock, hot and heavy as it bumps against your barely stimulated clit — it sends sparks through you, hips immediately rocking against him as you urge him closer.
The hands you kept in his hair had since long gone slack around the dark locks. Only when he gently grabs hold of your elbows, guiding your palms to rest flat against the table did you realize that you had been holding onto him all along. Jungkook moves methodically as he has you brace yourself on top the desk, fingers tracing your forearms reverently as his eyes follow the goosebumps that ripple across your skin.
Once he's satisfied he lifts his gaze to meet yours, waiting for you to give him the permission he desperately seeks. You give it to him with a nod — a quiet dip of your chin as your fingernails dig into the mahogany wood beneath you.
He surges forward, lips crashing onto yours just as his cock breaches you. The lack of foreplay makes the stretch burn and you cry out into his mouth. Jungkook doesn't wait, there is no time for that tonight and his hips meet yours in one harsh thrust that has your arms nearly giving out from where they hold you upright.
You're saved by the feeling of his hands — firm on your hips one second — behind your back the next. He slips them under your shirt, fingers tracing the end of your spine as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly. The pace is nothing like the one he'd set that afternoon in his bedroom, it's not slow and tender but fast and ruthless.
It stuns you, if only for a moment. This side of him was something you don't think even your wildest of imagination could have ever conjured, but God if it didn't make you clench around him, hard.
His tongue is warm and wet against your own, stringed together by a mix of saliva and desire, he kisses you in a way you didn't think he was capable of. But Jungkook seems determined to prove you wrong as his teeth nip at your bottom lip.
The distant ticking of the clock fades into background noise as the creak of his table and the sound of skin meeting skin fills his study. Each thrust makes your thighs jump, heat jolting through your stomach as you moan openly against him.
His glasses occasionally bump against your forehead, it's never enough to hurt but still bothersome. You reach up to push them back over his head, aiming to get them out of the way when Jungkook's fingers suddenly brush against yours. One hand has left your back as he grabs at the glasses clumsily, tearing them off completely as he discards them onto the desk with a clatter.
Then he's back to kissing you, lips molding together like an unbreakable seal as his tongue finds yours. Cock twitching inside of you, his need pulses through you just as yours does him, and the arm you once held raised, loops around the back of his neck instead as you pull him closer.
His body is looming over yours, forcing you to tilt back as your chests brush. Your nails dig into his nape, clawing their way to the ends of his hair and the groan Jungkook emits vibrates through you. His hips meet yours in a particularly hard jerk, causing the forgotten bottle of whiskey to topple over and hit the desk with a loud clang.
"Shit—" Jungkook hisses as he tears himself from the kiss, one hand reaching for the bottle but it was already rolling for the edge. A second later it tips and falls, embracing the floor with a sound so deafening it makes you both wince.
Abandoning his mission, Jungkook's palm plants itself against the mahogany as his forehead meets yours. The giggle you're unable to bite back fans across his parted lips, the ridicule of your situation quickly catching up. He doesn't seem quite as amused and he quiets you with another bruising kiss.
The pace he picks up matches his previous, perhaps even more so. Each roll of his hips feel punishing, whether that was directed to your or himself — you did not know. The glasses of whiskey, still placed on the table, rattle and clink together in tandem with the way he moves. The tip of his cock catches on your clit when he pulls back enough to slip out entirely, leaving you aching and clenching around nothing before shoving himself back inside with one unforgiving thrust.
Your body jolts when the hand, previously braced against the desk moves between your legs, thumb finding your clit easily. There was an underlying sense of urgency in the way he touches you, coaxing your orgasm to come faster as time slips between your fingers and you have to distract yourself with multiple kisses to his jaw and throat so to not let out the sounds that beg to be released.
The familiar heat pools low in your stomach, and he makes a strained noise when his insistent flick against your clit makes you clench around his cock. "Jungkook I'm—" The breathless admission barely makes it past your lips when he suddenly freezes inside of you. His relentless pace goes from a hundred to zero in a split second and you tilt your head back, confused.
Then you hear the faint creak coming from somewhere down the hall. It could have easily been the house settling, a gust of wind that tugged at the old wood, but it could also be the tell tale sign of a door being pushed open.
"Do you think—?"
Your question is cut short by Jungkook's hand where it clamps over your mouth. The table you sit perched on is now still, the glasses now longer bumping into each other and Jungkook's cock, nestled deep inside you, is unmoving.
His eyes are fixed on the door behind you, chest heaving with each breath he takes, you notice the sheen layer of sweat that clings to his forehead and what little of his chest you can see. The two of you listen intently for another long minute, the silence stretches thick and heavy — filled with dread.
When two minutes have passed Jungkook's thumb resumes its touch to your sensitive clit. It's slower this time, taunting circles that has you squirming on top of his desk, making it creak softly. He's yet to take his hand off your mouth, adamant about keeping you quiet even when he continues to draw your orgasm closer.
"It's fine," he finally grunts, "Probably just the house." Part of you says not to believe him, to demand you abort this entire ordeal to not risk waking the children. But when he moves again, pushing himself even deeper as his head tips toward his chest, you can't find it in you to make him stop.
The clock on the wall is an insistent reminder and it only spurs Jungkook on as he snaps forward, forcing the whiskey glasses together as the desk rattles. The momentary panic fades back into arousal as he applies more pressure to your swollen clit. Your thighs hug his hips, pulling him closer when you feel your climax approach.
You give up on warning him as you let go of the table entirely, your arm joining the other around his neck, clinging to him like light in darkness. Jungkook releases your mouth and meets your lips in another kiss, teeth clashing together in a way he hadn't allowed last time. The hand he keeps on your back is the only thing holding you up as it counters each harsh thrust of his.
A moment later you feel yourself clench around him, cunt fluttering repeatedly as you cum on his cock with a muffled cry into his mouth. Jungkook's touch to your clit doesn't let up and he drinks each sound of yours with greed, tongue lapping at your bottom lip as you pant against him.
"Shh," he murmurs as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his pace slowing as he feels your legs go limp. When you squirm at his touch he draws his hand back from your clit, letting it join the other as he caresses the line of your spine beneath your shirt. The kiss has softened too, morphed into something that reminds you of how he would always kiss you.
For a while you let yourself get lost in it, the remnants of your climax clouding your mind to anything that wasn't the feeling of his lips pressed to yours.
When you part for air you find him already looking at you. His face is flushed the same shade of red it had been on that afternoon, sweat glistening on his temple as it ran down his sides. Without thinking you reach up to brush a few dark strands from his forehead, pushing them out of the way only for the stubborn locks to fall back to his brow bone.
You shift atop the table, wincing at the way your cunt wraps around his still-hard cock despite being spent. Jungkook catches the flicker of discomfort and he gently pulls out as his hands find your hips, fingers rubbing soothing patterns into your flesh. Your gaze drops to his slacks, the open belt no longer holding them up and then to the sight of him — flushed pink and slick with your joint arousal.
"Switch with me," you croak, causing him to frown. He looks like he's about to ask what you had meant but you're already scooting off the table, feet finding the ground, albeit unsteadily. The warmth of his hands on your waist as he assures you won't fall makes your heart beat faster — a reaction you try to ignore as you gingerly pull your panties back up.
When you see that he still hasn't moved, simply watching you with the same eyes he had been since you stepped inside his study, you point to the table. "Switch," you half-command, not really expecting much to come out of it, but to your surprise Jungkook nods as he trades places with you, leaning back against the desk, still holding onto your hips.
It takes everything in you to swat his hands away but your desire wins out. He looks almost offended, puzzled even, but realization dawns across his features when you sink to your knees before him — coming face to face with his aching cock.
"You don't have to," he begins, but you shut him up by wrapping one hand around the base, reveling at finally getting to feel him like this. You think you would be content to just watch him, studying the slight curve, the veins that climb along him and the pink flush to his tip for forever, but one glance toward the clock has you jumping into action.
Silently, you bet with yourself on whether you'd be able to accomplish desired results within three minutes, though his sharp intake of breath when your thumb rubs across the slit makes you hopeful.
Adjusting your grip, you let your palm glide across his cock, tracing the thicker vein that protrudes just beneath the head. The way he twitches in your grasp makes heat coil in your gut despite your recent orgasm. A bead of precum beads at the tip, glistening under the soft glow of the lamp behind him and you immediately lean forward to taste him.
Giving blowjobs wasn't exactly an area you were skilled in. There had been an instance or two in the past where whatever dude you had accompanied home after a night out had begged for you to do so. The act was never something you did out of your own pleasure, more so obligation, but wrapping your lips around Jungkook felt nothing like those drunken nights.
He tastes salty but not bad, and perhaps you were just high on the feeling, but you find yourself craving more as you take him deeper in your mouth.
Turning your gaze up to meet his, you find him peering down at you through his lashes. His lips are parted, brows scrunched together but for once it wasn't that signature frown of his. Through the corner of your eye you catch the inked hand that curls around the table's edge, his knuckles pale from the deadly grip he keeps on the wood.
You hum, pulling off of him with a final lick as you sit back on your knees. "You can touch me, you know."
The simple permission seems to undo something in him as Jungkook tips his head back with a groan he's unable to muffle. "Jesus—" he gasps, "Don't say that." But his fingers are already at the top of your head, short nails digging into your scalp as he forces you back down on his cock, much to your delight.
His hold is firm, but never rough, he doesn't attempt to control the pace you set, but he keeps you down — not letting you part from him for even a second. Your lips stretch wide around him, breath hitching when he hits the back of your throat. Hand stroking what you can't fit in your mouth, the other keeps you steady by gripping his thigh.
Tears brim on your waterline when his hips suddenly jerk forward and your nails dig into his leg — causing him to twitch on your tongue at the sharp sting. His breath has grown heavy and you watch the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales through parted lips.
You can tell that he's close when the hand on top of your head eases up, allowing you room to pull off. His cock thrusts weakly into your mouth — like he was holding back from doing more. Your response is to take him deeper, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision. Nails still digging into his thigh, you let your teeth carefully drag across him when you go down.
The subtle action makes him jolt, "Fuck," he spits the curse out, his free hand slamming against the table behind him. "I'm gonna—" cutting himself off with another curse, he lets go of your head entirely, "Shit— You have to pull off."
Had it not been for the slight tremble to his fingers when you force his hand back atop your head, you would have almost been a little offended by the idea. Yet you say nothing, tongue flattening against his tip before sliding him back into your mouth, repeating the soft scrape of teeth against him.
Jungkook's hips push forward, so much so that you nearly lose your balance. His cock twitches up into the roof of your mouth before he's cumming onto your tongue with a sharp hiss. The weight of his palm on top of your head holds you in place and you let him spill down your throat without complaint, humming gratefully as the taste of him coats your senses.
Once he's limp in your grasp, you sit back, gaze tracing the string of saliva that connects you to him. Jungkook is panting above you, head tilted back to where you can't make out his face, though the flush that creeps up his neck is enough evidence.
Licking your lips, you carefully climb to your feet, ignoring the ache in your entire lower half as you heave a breath. Your hands move on autopilot when you tuck him back into his pants, not bothering with the belt as Jungkook's knuckles gently grace your chin.
You manage to catch a brief glimpse of the dazed look in his eyes before he seals you both in a kiss. This one is slower than all the ones you had shared tonight, he doesn't cringe when sliding his tongue across yours, tasting himself on you with a hum.
The air inside the study is no longer cold, the silence of the house no longer imposing. In fact you think you could have stayed like this for a long while. But the clock on the wall ultimately calls to your attention and when you turn your head you find that time was up. "My jeans—" you scramble off of him, already in search of the missing garment, tossed somewhere on the floor.
Jungkook's fingers curl around your wrist, halting your movements as he pulls you back to his chest. His breath is hot against your parted lips as he tilts his head down, nose brushing the corner of your mouth. "Stay, just five more minutes," he murmurs when his other hand finds your waist.
"But the bus, I'll miss it," you argue, though admittedly, you did not want to go.
He shakes his head, thumb stroking across your palm. "I'll pay for a cab," he says as he leans to press a kiss to your forehead, "I don't want you on a bus tonight, not after this."
You want to reject the offer, tell him that it wasn't necessary. But his persistence and the gentle touch to your skin makes you cave. With a silent nod you agree to five more minutes in his arms before you head out into the cold December night.
── [ ✉️ ] Hey there... So what did we think? In terms of like, the porn, I feel like this was slightly different from how I did it last time. I hope it's still nice to read of course. Anyone figured out what he likes yet? (Blatant hint, the teeth during the blowjob) but anyway! Hm, it's always a struggle trying to find out what to say here, but to put it like this: the next three chapters are going to be fun.
synopsis: your skills as a videographer gets put to the test when your friend, who happens to be in the same profession, falls victim to double-booking. problem is, you only specialized in weddings, not adult films. despite your initial reluctance, you take the job. cue the lights … you meet jeon jungkook, a pornstar, on set — in his world. you just never expected him to play a part in yours.
pairing: pornstar!jungkook x wedding videographer!fem reader
wc: 21.1k
genre: s2l, pornstar au, smut, angst, fluff
cw: slice of life, miscommunication, anxiety, fear of future, inaccurate adult filming industry discourse/depiction, jk had a tough time at work, mentions of injuries, tension, yearning, angsty confrontation, alcohol consumption, confessions, fluffy moments, 18+ ONLY, oral (f&m), rimming (f receiving), nipple play, fingering, cum eating, jk watches pix, protected sex, accidental orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, aftercare
a/n: finally here!! 😛🎉 as always, enjoy~
masterlist | prologue | act i. | act ii. | act iii.
Is a glass of water half-full or half-empty?
You observe the glass, hoping for a revelation or answer — a good distraction from your miscalculations all evening; well, miscalculations in the duration of meeting Jeon Jungkook. Tucking yourself further into your small couch, the corners of your lips tug at the reminder of the boy. The icy glass cools your hot skin, which still remembers the flames he left you surrounded in on the dancefloor.
And those eyes — his always spoke to you without words.
Eyes smitten and playful all evening, you can’t forget how they morphed into fear and panic when you finally moved on the pathway he laid out for you. Were you wrong to assume he wanted more with you?
“Ah, so stupid.” You slam your eyes shut at the memory, shame heats your cheeks at his rejection — at another loss you’ll need to process on your own. Loss, after loss, after loss. It wears on your bones, empties your soul just like how you empty the glass of water clutched in your hand.
Didn’t matter whether your glass was ‘half-full or half-empty,’ the water will eventually be consumed. Jungkook had a way of overfilling your glass with an abundance of hope; however, you later found out the glass you shared with Jungkook contained holes and eventually left you empty.
No one leaves you empty like Jungkook does.
Sitting up higher on your couch, you dig your lower back into your armrest, wanting to feel some form of support.
Maybe you should’ve stayed and taken the water Jungkook offered. Wake you up from that drunken state and snap you out of your innermost desires for your friend. You’d probably go as far as blaming the alcohol and the night would’ve just ended from there.
Probably would’ve been a better alternative than pathetically running away. Then again, there was no way you were going to last another second in the venue — not after the way he pulled away.
You know it’s rude to leave in the middle of the party. Can’t even bear looking at your phone since ordering a cab outside the club, opting to place it on silent afterwards. Now, the phone rests heavily on your kitchen counter, begging to be checked on.
You should text him. Tell him you’re safe and use indigestion as an excuse for your abrupt departure — no one would ever find fault in that reason. Another pang of anxiety holds you back from touching your phone. What if he didn’t bother checking on you? Upset with your bad habit of leaving?
He has all the rights to.
Setting your feet into your house slippers, you’re thankful for the flat cushion after a night of dancing in heels. Bathroom first, then you’ll text Jungkook. The order of events seemed the most logical and definitely not your way of avoiding the inevitable. It’s a solid plan—
You jolt at the series of knocks against your door. Although your building was relatively safe, living alone had its downsides, especially at this hour. The grip on your glass changes and you ready yourself for self-defense.
Best case scenario? A ding-dong ditcher. Worst? Nope. You don’t want your mind wandering there.
One eye closed, you peer through the peephole.
The fisheye effect warps your vision, but you could easily make out the person standing facing away from your doorway. The dangly, silver five-hooped earrings were a dead giveaway to your visitor. Felt them graze the top of your hand every time he tilted his head in your touch. Felt them when you wrapped your hands at the base of his nape. They glimmered prettily under the club lights, but they look nearly dull now under your complex’s standard lightbulbs.
He’s a few steps away, pacing, looking anywhere but your door as if it was the most offensive piece of object … as if your home was the most deplorable place he could be at right now.
And it should be. He should be at his party celebrating his wins and accomplishments, surrounded by people who love and care for him — not on shame’s breeding grounds. Shame nearly has you running to hide underneath your covers, hoping he’d leave if you refused to answer. Rather than give into shame’s call for isolation, your fingers flick the locks and wrap around the doorknob.
“Jungkook?”
He’s still turned away from you, pacing back and forth in your building’s hallway. No longer styled how it was in the beginning of the night, his hair looks to be run through … whether it be by him or a stranger.
Couldn’t be you.
Your mouth parts, words lodged in your throat, but you manage to utter, “What are you doing here?”
He lets out a breath. So unstable, you could feel the restraint in his action but he stops in his tracks, head tilting up at the ceiling to will the words.
“Why do you keep doing that?” His voice raises, back still turned to you.
You frown, looking around to see if there was anyone in the vicinity. Definitely not at this hour. Your neighbors should be asleep, which is why you don’t want to make a scene outside your home.
“Jungkook—”
Suddenly, harshly, his back shifts and his body whips around, “Why do you keep leaving me? Is that all you know how to do?”
You’re standing face to face with his wide eyes and desperate furrowed brows. The hand raking through his hair only showcasing more of the distress forming on his forehead.
Your mind flashes back to your meeting at the milestone party. There was nothing wrong with your departure at that time. A small, but selfish part of you, doesn’t think you were at total fault for tonight’s departure either.
“Jungkook … please,” you stammer, eyes drifting down to your feet.
“I-I don’t fucking get it, Pix. I just–”
“Can you come inside?” You ask, looking around once more. And although Jungkook hasn’t made far enough noises to warrant a complaint, you’d rather talk inside the privacy of your home. “We can talk in here. Please?” You plead in a small whisper.
Jaw clenched as he looks at you and over the threshold of your home, he nods.
Citrus, with no more lingering scent of cigarettes, wafts past you. Even if he was upset with you, he’s still respectful in your home as he toes off his shoes at the entryway. He exhales through his nose, finally turning to face you. His jaw ticks, eyes bloodshot for multiple reasons but he’ll blame the alcohol and not the exhaustion of looking for you.
You can’t meet his eyes, can’t even bring yourself to speak in the comforts of your home.
“You keep doing this.” His voice cracks.
“I-I,” Your own voice wavers at his statement, you fight the lump in your throat as you lie, “wasn’t feeling well—”
“Cut the bullshit.”
You frown, having never seen Jungkook speak nor act this way towards you. He extends patience and understanding towards you like an additional limb on his body; perhaps, you’ve tested them enough tonight. Still, your own emotions come out just as unsteady and unreasonable.
“You’re being unfair.” You croak.
“I’ve been anything but that, Pix.” He retracts his head, brows furrowed. “You’re the one that left. Like you always do when things don’t go your way.”
Your brows pull together, unable to mask the hurt at the accusation. “What did you expect me to do? You—” Your bottom lip trembles.
“What?” He takes a step forward and you’re once again engulfed in his overbearing scent. The action stunts your train of thoughts, and for a split second, you think he’s almost just as affected.
You’re tired of going in circles, chasing but also running away from what appears to be your own desires.
“You led me on all night.” Voice small, Jungkook nearly misses what you say.
His frustration morphs into surprise, then guilt at the sudden forwardness of your words.
“I …” His eyes widen at the realization as he chews on the inside of his cheeks. He shakes his head, denying the allegations. “I didn’t.”
“But you did.” You walk past him, lower back leaning against the kitchen island. Arms crossed, you don’t miss how Jungkook’s eyes drop to your breasts pushed together. His throat bobs, hands twitching on his sides as he tries to rack up an appropriate response.
“We were dancing. Having fun.” He reasons. “That’s all.”
Friends don’t dance the way you both did tonight; their touches don’t burn. They don’t leave the party after being deserted from a dodged kiss on the dance floor. They sure as hell don’t stare at you like you’re made of stardust.
“Okay.” As if whatever happened in the last couple of hours could be reduced to ‘just dancing.’
His throat emits a low growl, patience once again tested. “Why’d you leave?”
Truthfully? There was no alternate reality where you’d stay after his rejection.
Your crossed arms drop to your sides, throat tightening to keep the contents in your stomach from hurling out. You can’t bear the truth, which seems to point at the fact Jungkook has moved on and there’s no more room for you in his life and heart.
He’s left you behind.
Jungkook fills in the silence with the same words circling in your head, slipping from his mouth now directed at you with an ache you’ve done your best to forget. “You’ve moved on.”
Your face falls, having spent months trying to forget him through hobbies, friends, and even another person, only to find out … nothing’s worked.
Unable to meet his eyes, you mutter, “I had to.”
“I know.” He says, “I know that.”
The filter on your fish tank acts as a buffer for the silence stretched in the small distance.
“You’ve moved on, too.” You don’t mention the woman you saw in his apartment lobby, too afraid of the confirmation that he has indeed moved on.
He lets out a shuddering breath, head hung low. “I tried, okay? I really did.”
Something within you shatters at his revelation. It hurts to be right, and it hurts more knowing no one was at fault in the aftermath of a heartbreak.
He drags his hand down his face, fighting the drunken exhaustion and confusion. “Things got better, I swear. But then I see you and I’m just reminded …”
“Of what?” You ask.
He stays quiet. So different than the man who was just outside your door ready to scorn the world. You wonder how he has kept his composure during the times of your silence when all you want to do right now is shout for an answer, resolution … or ending. What was left after this? Was there another title after being demoted to friends?
… Strangers?
You don’t wait for his answer, choosing to fill the gaps of the conversation with your reality. “You don’t tell me about your life anymore. Like … like, I’m some sort of afterthought learning all these things about you after the fact.” Tears falling freely, you sniff and palm away the moisture on your cheeks.
“Pix–”
“Why did you push me away?” From his life, from the kiss … no clarification needed — it all bleeds together anyway. “Did I misunderstand?”
“Pix.” He repeats, eyes crestfallen and exhausted. “You’re with someone, there’s no way I would do that to you–”
“I’m not with him anymore.”
He pauses, drawing in a sharp breath. “Still doesn’t make it right.” Despite his words, you recognize a faint glint in his eyes.
Of course he becomes the voice of reason when this conversation shouldn’t exist among supposed friends. Now it’s your turn to stay quiet, too ashamed for further humiliation and rejection.
“All I do is remember you, Pix. All I find myself doing is thinking of you. Could never stop even if I wanted to.” He shakes his head. Your stomach sinks, an uncomfortable mass lodged in your throat as you process his words. “And I’m so tired of having to remember you.” He looks at you with so much anguish, wishing and begging for you to end this turmoil.
“Jungkook …”
“I still think about the night at the hotel.” He continues, jaw clenched to stop the trembles. “And I feel so guilty.”
You shake your head vehemently. “You never once did anything I didn’t want to do.”
“I knew you couldn’t be with me, but I still pushed for more. It was selfish of me and I—”
“I’ve always wanted you, Jungkook,” you sob. “You never gave me the chance to make things work.”
Your hands cover your face as you heave into your palms, moist from your tears and breath. Jungkook tilts his head up at the ceiling, furiously blinking away the stray tears he thought he had swore away on the cab ride over to your place.
The buzzing travels up from your fingers to the back of your head. Your body convulses from your silent sobs, mind numbing from all the fog and confusion. Like a bee, refusing to leave you alone, you want to cower away from the source of noise. The buzzing continues for another fifteen seconds, too loud even when neither of you utter a word. It’s impossible to avoid when the buzzing happens from within. How do you remedy this? How do you run away? How, how, how—
The buzzing stops.
Zapped away by a strong pair of arms, the bees stop swarming in your mind, all honeyed scent — all citrus consuming your senses.
Jungkook holds you and it’s the closest thing to the security of your home. Possibly better. Home shelters you from the brewing storm, and as you cry into the expanse of Jungkook’s chest, he holds you tighter, chin resting on the top of your head.
“What are we even doing?” Jungkook mumbles against your hair, voice hoarse and tired.
You inhale into your hands and answer honestly, “I don’t know.”
He swallows, breathing you in, “I hate this.”
Your heart crumbles again. Was this it? Has to be. He’s finally done and wants nothing to do with you anymore.
Instead of his warmth departing from your body like you’ve grown used to, he holds you tighter.
“I fucked everything up.” He says. “I messed you up, and I’m trying to do right by you, I swear, but I–”
His words are cut off with your arms around his waist. Face pressed into his chest, your tears became another source of darkness on his grey shirt, but neither of you cared.
“You didn’t mess anything up.” You heave. Months passed, things changed. Time was a marker for healing and forgetting old wounds; though, there were just some things — some people — you can’t and don’t want to forget.
“I missed you so much, Pix.”
You pull back a little to look at his face. Hurt and longing never needed a competition and there’s no winner when both of you were wounded in the process. The frame had always been a little unfocused and hard to decipher, but you’re both in view now.
“I never stopped thinking about you.” You confess.
He blinks twice, hand now coming to cup your wet cheek. Ache and remorse stretches over his face at the time lost in the absence of one another. He needs to be honest, barring out the truth if there was even a possibility to start anew.
“I can’t promise perfection, P.” He admits, scared and worried for this potential dealbreaker.
“I never asked for perfection.” You shake your head, breath finally coming out even. Pausing, you let the reality of your recent failures sink in, “I just got out of something and I don’t know if I’m any good, but I wanna figure things out with you — do things properly. Please give me time.” Please give us time.
You both loosen your hold on one another, but maintain your gazes as your hands finally intertwine. The hold is weak, full of uncertainty of the future, but you push forward, “Please?” You ask again, heart in your hands — no, heart in his hands. You pray and hope he handles it with care. He has all the power to do the opposite, turning your heart to cold steel for the next poor soul.
He doesn’t, though — can’t imagine anyone but him holding your heart with delicate hands if you allow him to.
Jungkook’s always wondered when the world would bend for him; yet, he’s got the world in his arms right now willing to bend for his sake.
He nods and the night bleeds into the morning as you and Jungkook sit on your small couch to catch up, mending lost time with one another. The hours of bitterness leading up to this moment was well worth it after you finally taste the hint of sweetness lodged behind his growing smiles. The catch up bounces back between idle chatters to late night secrets until you both settle into the mundane and content.
“Group work is the worst, P. Avoid it at all costs.” He recounts the number of times his classmates let him down on a project this past semester.
You laugh wholeheartedly. “Why’d you think I run this business alone?”
“Smart girl.” He grins, and your body warms from the small compliment.
A natural silence fills you both at this time, between the chuckles and stares. You think you could get used to this. A new norm knowing you both want to start over with an agreed upon future. The two glasses of water on your coffee table gets refilled throughout the night, but sits empty now.
Yet, you’re both so full.
And you realize no one’s replenishing the glass the way Jungkook does. Around your imaginary glass filled with holes, Jungkook always does his best to cover and mend them.
“I’m sorry for not keeping you posted on my life.” Jungkook says, knees brushing against yours. “I was trying to figure things out on my own.” He leaves out the part where he wanted to reach out for your opinion, opting to struggle by himself.
“Could’ve reached out to me. I wouldn’t have minded.”
He nods, lips pursed debating his next words.
“What?” You ask, eyes heavy from exhaustion, but you don’t want to miss a single second with your special boy.
“Mm, nothing.” His trademark dimples make an appearance when he hides away a playful smile.
“Come on,” you push, “Tell me.”
He laughs softly, lips pulling to an embarrassed smile, “Wanted you to notice me, so I …”
Your eyes narrow, doing your best to piece together the meaning of his words. Something finally clicks as you lean back against your couch. You’d never peg someone like Jeon Jungkook to do things out of spite or attention, but you suppose love has a way of making people do stupid things.
This was love, right?
“I know. Stupid and immature.” He shakes his head.
“It worked.” You shrug, returning his sheepish smile. He interlaces his fingers with you, relaxed knowing you had been trying to keep up with his life in secret.
He smiles, but shortly after dips a little at his next musing, “Classes have really taken up a lot of my time. I haven’t been able to work as much, but I still take on projects every month or so.”
Your expression falters a little, guilt filling your system as he relays this information. You nod, head leaning to rest on his shoulder.
“Does it bother you?” He asks another forward question. He doesn’t sound as uncertain as he did months ago in the hotel, courage coming as he knows your inevitable answer.
“A little.” You admit.
You’ll get used to this just as Jungkook needs to get used to this too — that sometimes he will disappoint and hurt. Your acceptance isn’t a form of a bandaid over a reopened wound; instead, allowing the healing process to take on whatever form is needed. Eventually a scar tissue will rise over the persistent lesion, granting you the chance to perform better this time around.
Around 5 a.m. your sleepy eyes fight to stay open as you watch Jungkook put on his shoes. He stands up, eyes heavy but with so much anticipation. Realizes the moment the door shuts behind him, he’ll be left anticipating the next time he’ll be graced with your company again.
He comes close, and with a soft exhale through his nose, he presses his lips to your forehead. Breath fanning over, his voice is low and gravelly on your skin, “See ya, Pix.”
Life with Jungkook, again, is ever soft and changing. The effort is there, the pace of the relationship slow as it should be. Jungkook’s main focus is school now and you’re there to support him along the way. You come over to work while he’s studying or in virtual lectures.
He wants you close. Giving you access to his apartment by creating your personalized finger scan into his home. You also give him a spare key to your place, prompted by a recent out of the city wedding you had to attend and no one else was available to feed Gum and Bubba.
On his large couch, you sit on the opposite end as you answer email inquiries. Wedding season’s peaking again and no matter how busy you may get, you’re never too busy for Jungkook. Nothing stops Jungkook from remaining close to you — not even his overly large couch. He’s never too far, wanting your legs slung over his lap as he listens to his lecture through his headphones. His hands mindlessly massage the bottom of your soles, knowing exactly where you’re most sensitive and tired after a long weekend of being on your feet.
You aren’t quite lovers, but you definitely are not just friends. What you’re building with Jungkook takes time. Lots of failing and hard days, but there are just as many and if more, softer and gentler days where you’re reminded this was all worth it.
Things move as they intend to. Like your slow evening walks, shared hot meals, and camera shutters when Jungkook needs to work on his portfolio or an assignment for class. He tags along with you on a couple of weddings to keep you company, inevitably revealing to you that weddings aren’t his thing. It’s good to be honest with these truths — one less field he’d find himself dipping with in the world of photography. But no matter his contempt, he likes being where you’re at.
His lecture finishes and he closes his laptop on his table, leaning back as he rests his eyes after realizing how long he’s been on the computer. Sure, school was difficult, but it was structured — no surprises. Just an obligation he willingly signed up for.
You don’t look up from your laptop, speaking as you type up a response to an inquiry, “What’s on your mind?”
He debates sharing his predicament, hands haven’t stopped his ministrations on your feet as if you were his version of a stress-ball. You breathe through your nose when he hits a particular pressure point.
“I have to go to work next weekend.” He sighs, working on your other foot now. “I’m tired.”
“Can you decline or postpone?” You look up, blue light from your screen bouncing back to your face.
He shakes his head. “Can’t. I signed a two-parter contract a while back and this is the last installment.”
You close your laptop, feet swinging down to touch his fluffy carpet rug as you scoot closer to him. You were aware contracts and waiver forms existed to protect a business and their clients. In Jungkook’s case, the production he signed with was protecting their assets and securing their future projects. It’s a little demoralizing to view Jungkook as an asset, but that’s how business worked. He had to fulfill his duties to avoid legal penalties.
You lean in and it’s a familiar sight Jungkook’s grown fond of these couple of weeks: cheek squished on his shoulder, you look up with reassuring eyes. ‘It’ll be okay.’
Slowly, you’ve grown to manage the unease of his work, ache returning similar to tides crashing onto land. Sometimes the waves hit stronger than anticipated, but smaller and more manageable tides come ashore.
“Just one day, and it’ll be over soon. Then you’ll be free to focus on your exams afterwards, hm?” You soothe, setting the scenario to make the finish line easier to visualize.
“Yeah.” He grunts, not completely relaxed at the idea of having to do something he doesn’t particularly want to, but a job was a job.
“Hey,” you sit up higher, “is there anything I can do to make it better?”
Shouldn’t have offered that because there’s probably a number of things Jungkook can list off the top of his head. His tongue grows heavy in his mouth at the mere idea of having anything he wanted from you.
“Something sweet?” You suggest, brows wiggling up and down.
“Right now?” Declining was never in the books when it came to desserts.
You shake your head with a small laugh, “Whenever you’re done with the project. I can bring something after.”
“Okay, Pix. I’d love that.” His hand holds yours. “Surprise me.”
Nights were always spent like this until it was time for one of you to leave. He walks you to your car, waving at the kind receptionist on the way out to the guest parking lot. No longer embraced in summer’s sweltering heat, fall’s brisk air hits your cheeks when you both step out the complex. You never needed an excuse to press your body closer to Jungkook’s side, hand lodged deep in his coat pocket.
“Bye.” You whisper, tippy-toeing as you press a kiss to his cheek, letting your lips linger on his cold skin just a little longer.
The grip around your hands tighten as he fights off the intrusive thoughts of wishing for your lips to move over any expanse of his skin. There’s no need to deny the fact of having impure thoughts of you … had always been the case whether or not you were with him. It doesn’t help when you press your body closer to his, testing the boundaries of your new relationship with each other. Though, the test always stops where it is needed.
Passing the test, he gulps, “Text me when you get home, ‘kay?”
“I will.”
Five hours of work and he’ll be free. Considering the masses need to work on average an eight hour shift and sometimes more, Jungkook is fortunate for his work hours to salary ratio. Still not easy doing what he does especially since he isn’t in the right headspace at the moment and school’s been eating up his time — a love-hate relationship when it comes to being in a new learning environment.
He’s been reevaluating a lot these days, wondering how he’ll juggle his profession with school. And when he finds himself thinking too much of the possibilities, he forces himself to run from those thoughts of quitting everything all together.
In those difficult moments, thinking about you helps calm his nerves about the future and he feels himself landing back on reality. Not everything needs an immediate answer or decision; moreover, he’s allowed to make mistakes. Much like your relationship with him, the ambiguity doesn’t make him run for the hills anymore. Although you and Jungkook don’t currently have any labels for what you are now, there isn't any uncertainty in his devotion towards you.
He checks his bathroom mirror one more time, piercings taken out because today’s shoot may be a little more physically demanding and he isn’t keen on risking any additional injuries like he had sustained in the first shoot. He signed up for the project on a whim because … well, at the time the money and deal seemed decent. BDSM isn’t something he dabbled a lot in on both the receiving or giving end. However, around the same time he signed the contract, he was still grieving the relationship with you and in need of a distraction — something to make him feel again no matter how painful or rigorous to the body.
After the first shoot, he needed at least two weeks of rest … both mentally and physically. He isn’t fond of his co-star — Jungkook still remembers the numbers the man did to his body despite signaling his discomfort.
Locking his door, he makes his way to the elevator. The doors open to reveal a familiar face: Yoona.
She smiles at him, the lines around her eyes crease from the action. Jungkook nods and steps into the elevator next to her. Her strong perfume permeates his senses; a little too floral for his liking in comparison to the subtle cucumber and jasmine scent on your skin he’s grown attached to.
“Work?” He asks, looking at his phone. It’s nearly noon, a little late to be going into the office. Then again, what does he know about the corporate life?
“Hyunbin wanted me to visit.” Ah, her ex-husband — explains her appearance and unusual demeanor. He assumes a revenge outfit underneath her long fur coat. “You working?”
“Yup.” He exhales through his nose.
Even without his explanation of his reluctance, Yoona reads him easily … just like how she read him the first two weeks after his split with you, choosing to end things with him because she wasn’t fond of messing with someone who was in emotional distress. She’s already got a lot going on and the last thing she wants is a fuckbuddy using her as an emotional crutch.
She’d rather be a friend or a … mentor? Maybe just a friendly neighbor until he got his shit together.
Be it her years of wisdom or her innate ability to read the younger man, she catches wind of his unwillingness to go to work.
“Hang in there.” She offers, just as her friends regurgitated on multiple venting sessions during the nasty divorce process. It’s the bare minimum as a friend if they aren’t able to do more for you.
“Thanks, you too.” He returns the encouragement with a toothy grin. One of the advantages of being taller than most is his ability to spy over people’s phones. Yoona types away in her phone, the prior messages included a clear image of a male’s lower half and her own response with an image of her freshly showered body in a towel.
Even with her sunglasses on (which, by the way, are totally unneeded with this gloomy weather), she rolls her eyes under the elevator’s fluorescent lights.
“He’s been begging to make things work again.” She places her phone in her purse.
“You gonna let him back in?” Surely would lessen the alimony she has to pay him.
Yoona scowls, “I may be single, but I am not lonely.” The elevator dings and signals their arrival on the ground floor. “I can have my cake and eat it.” She smiles, red blooming with her pearly white teeth.
Jungkook laughs under his breath, a surge of sweetness also embraces him now after realizing he also has his ‘cake’ too. Hasn’t quite eaten you the way he wants to, but he’s content. Loves where you are both at and is willing to wait till things settle more in life for the both of you.
Yoona clears her throat, strong floral scent leaving along with her as she steps out of the elevators first. “Take care, Jungkook.” Her heels click on the marble floors as she runs out to the cab waiting for her.
Jungkook sighs again, making his way to his car and already programming the job site’s address into his Maps app.
Five hours and he’ll be done.
As promised, you have a sweet treat ready to reward Jungkook after his shift.
It’s uncharacteristic of Jungkook to not answer your texts after a couple of hours. You push away the worry as you make your way up the elevators, tiny brown bag containing something rich and icy you’d typically save for the summer.
Though, there were no rules on when to consume ice cream, especially if it was made by scratch — especially when you made it with your own spin. Anticipation brews as your steps near the front entrance of his home.
Your fingers press on the knob’s scanner and the latch clicks, ready for you to turn and enter into his home.
The living room’s dark, save for the small light Jungkook programmed to turn on at a specific time. There’s no greeting like you’re used to. Hanging your coat and scarf on the stand, you peer past the entryway as you toe off your shoes.
“Jungkook?” You call out with an air of uncertainty.
Still no answer. Your eyes adjust to the dim surroundings, eyes eventually falling onto a figure you’d recognize in any condition.
Jungkook’s laid down on his couch, one arm over his eyes. He’s in his sweats, showered and asleep. Your shoulders drop, tip-toeing past him to put the sweet treat into the freezer. You come back to the living room, not without picking up the fallen throw blanket on the ground, placing it on his body.
You could crack open your laptop to do some work in his kitchen until he stirs awake or just leave and let him rest. Straightening up from your bent position, a sharp inhale comes from below as Jungkook removes his forearm from his face and lifts his head up to peer around his surroundings. He sees you and drops his head in relief, breathing patterns stabilizing with a drag of his hand down his face.
“What time is it?”
“A little past 8.” You reply, sitting near his knees.
“Sorry, Pix. I crashed.” His throat cracks from sleep, “Time slipped.”
“‘S okay.” You reply, pinkie hooking onto his. “Would you like to rest some more? I won’t bother you.”
He swallows, unsure if he would rather be left alone or if he needed your company. He’s not sure he would be good company.
“I don’t know.” His other arm comes up again to cover his eyes. Misery also needed company too, and he doesn’t want to be away from you.
You seem to get the hint. Couch, stiff and hard as ever, seems to bend at the weight of you both for this moment of tenderness.
“Hard day?” You ask.
His throat bobs, and that’s when you notice the red marks near his Adam’s apple and his wrist. Your lips tug down, fingers itching to soothe the pain over his skin. You curl closer to him, hoping your presence would be enough to redirect his thoughts.
“Yeah. Was difficult.” He replies, voice shaky. His breath comes out uneven as he sniffles into his arm. “Ah, sorry, maybe it’s better if I’m alone.”
He hadn’t realized a couple tears had slipped out from the corners of his eyes until one of your hands cups his jaw, thumb rubbing away some of the moisture in your touch. He sucks in another breath, chest stuttering as a small sob tumbles out. He turns, burying his face into your chest as his arms come from underneath to hold you.
“I’m sorry.” He apologizes repeatedly. You repeatedly tell him you’re not leaving — that you’re here to stay. Fingers running through his dark locks, your touches force his eyes shut, a relieved sigh exiting as he regulates his breathing.
“I’m here, you’re okay.” You promise, your nails scratching his head produces a soft whimper as he buries his bigger frame deeper into your body. When you try to pull away to assess his face, he only tugs you in tighter. You chuckle, hand patting and soothing the expanse of his back.
“Kook?”
He grunts, too exhausted to verbalize a reply.
“I’m gonna go make something, okay? You stay here and rest.”
He reluctantly loosens his grip on you, and holds onto the fact you were staying. Accepting your proposal, he goes back into a more dignified position with his arm slung over his eyes.
You move with precision; kitchen layout memorized of where all the seasonings and cooking utensils were located, you come back into the living room with a small pot of ramen in under ten minutes. The wooden heat protector clanks onto his coffee table in your descent to the ground. You wince, apologetic for startling him again.
“Didn’t have to make me food, Pix.” He pushes himself up slowly, face contorting in discomfort as he sits upright.
“Wanted to. Come on, have a bite, please?” You had already started rolling the noodles into the spoon, creating a perfect single bite. You blow on the food a little before Jungkook dips his head halfway to receive the food.
Unlike the painful expression he previously sported, his brows furrow as he chews on the food — a good sign. Nothing’s more healing than a warm meal; a warm meal made with love.
“Thanks, P.” He smiles, and the parts of him lost during the hours of the shoot are slowly coming back.
“I’m glad.” Your eyes land on his neck first, then over his wrists where the red rings were most prominent. “Did you want to put on ointment? Tell me where you keep your medicine and I can—”
“It’ll heal on its own.” He declines, ready and rehearsed for your concerns. And because he knows there were a billion other questions in that pretty head of yours, he comes clean on his reasons for tonight’s exhaustion. “Co-star went off script towards the end and it threw me for a loop.” He explains, head rested on the back of the couch.
You nod, arms tightening around him. “That sounds awful. I’m sorry …”
He releases another heavy breath. “I-I don’t know, Pix. It’s usually not this bad.”
“What do you mean?” Frowning, you didn’t think you’d ever witness Jungkook in this state: defeated over the profession he willingly chose and stayed for.
His blank eyes stare off into the distance, zeroing on the corner of his flat screen television. The corners of his mouth twitch, exhaling a shaky breath before murmuring, “I’m scared to quit.”
And despite his discomfort with the subject, he continues, “I … I’ve been thinking about it and it feels like I can’t focus on other things when I have to think about work.” He also doesn’t want to mention the shame he has in quitting, inevitably proving people right that his line of work was not sustainable in the long-run. He doesn’t want to admit he’s outgrown the field that’s built everything around him: his friends, home, experiences, and … you. If it weren’t for his job, he wouldn’t have found you.
But was gratitude and loyalty needed for a profession that brings him more stress and worries?
Though rare, he’s wrestled with these difficult moments in this field, often wondering how life would be if he didn’t need to endure. What version of him exists outside of the industry? He knows what happiness is, but he’s also familiar with the deep dread and disappointment in staying.
“It’s scary.” You concede, staring off into the same space Jungkook had fixated. “But I know you’ll figure it out. You’re not alone. I’m here with you no matter what you decide on.”
His eyes well up again. He used to think people were crazy for suffering, crying during and off work hours. Now? He’s no different. Change is scary, but remaining the same is scarier. And he’s remained the same for so long, fighting the norms and societal expectations of him.
All this to realize … he’s also just a boy with dreams and aspirations, hope cupped in his hands waiting to be discovered. The industry may be a part of him, but it was never all he was. While he doesn’t know what the future entails, he knows he needs to do something different — his profession does not define his identity.
“Yes, I know.” He lets you rub gentle circles on his bruised wrist, lets you bring up his wrist and blow a cooling breath over his skin before you lay a gentle kiss. “Thank you.”
You and Jungkook remain like this for a while, just sharing each other’s warmth and company until you perk up about the dessert you brought over. He chuckles as you pry open the container and a peek of light orange reaches his vision. Jungkook relishes in the small notes of cinnamon and persimmons hitting his taste buds.
The container of ice cream gets annihilated within fifteen minutes, cold running down your esophagus and tummy, but there’s always a source of heat in your stomach as you sit close to your biggest source of warmth.
Refusing his offer to walk you to your car, you only allow Jungkook to see you out his door in favor of him resting more.
“Thanks for tonight, P. I really needed this.” He needs you more than ever. Holding your hands, he lets his gaze trail down to your lips before he brings them back up to your eyes. He’s been through this route many times, showing restraint because he knows better than to do something too rushed despite his mind and body screaming at him to disobey the boundary you both set.
As always, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.
It’s enough. Because he feels you through the food you make for him, your touch, and your unwavering care.
As you stare up at him with starry eyes, he also realizes:
Intimacy doesn’t have to be perfect, but it is with you.
Jungkook completed his first semester of courses with flying marks. With a heavy heart, he decided to stop working in adult filming after another week of mulling through his options. In his resolve he tells himself the decision’s indefinite … subject to change. But ever since he let his agent know of his career change, he has not looked back.
Though the weather remains chilly, spring’s around the corner. The season brings the birds in the early mornings, flowers blossoming around his apartment complex, and the love blooming in his chest whenever he sees you.
Tonight’s a special night for you. Your cohort wanted to do a little social gathering at a club and you invited Jungkook as your plus-one. He wasn’t planning on drinking, opting to be your designated driver for the night. He looks over at you, eyes sparkly with glitter … or perhaps, you glow more under his stares.
Weather’s still cold, but he knows it will warm up at the venue as the night progresses. He lays his brown jacket on your lap as he drives you both to the venue. You’re so pretty in your skin-tight black turtleneck and gold chain necklace. Upon final inspection in your body length mirror, you made a remark how you looked like The Rock minus the fannypack. Jungkook laughed and tugged you along, mumbling how you looked beautiful and how you were going to be late if you did another outfit change. And while the weather is ever turbulent, jumping between hot and cold days, there’s nothing turbulent between you and Jungkook.
Even though you abstained from changing out of your ‘Pre-2012 The Rock’ fit, you were late with how the parking situation worked out. Too many cars, too little parking options when you were deep into the nightlife district of the city. Jungkook parked at an open lot about a twenty minute walking distance. Terrible, you know. But the trip was well worth it with his company. Had you been alone, you probably would have chosen to order a cab, but you’ve never felt safer in Jungkook’s hand as you both walk down the busy streets on a Saturday night.
“Thanks again for coming with me.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Plus,” He squeezes your hand. “You’re coming with me to my friend’s wedding next weekend. So we’re even.”
“Oh no … weddings are so, so, so awful,” you chide with batted lashes.
He grins, “It is when you gotta be in dress pants.”
You giggle, staring up at the illuminated neon lights around town. “My classmates are excited to meet you, Mr. 9th-Annual-Shutter-Winner.” You grin, the side of your body presses close to him. You look down at his phone where it navigates the leftover walking distance to the club: estimated time of arrival – five minutes.
Jungkook was nervous. Not as a result of meeting your classmates, but he knew a certain someone was going to be there. Kim Taehyung, your best friend and confidant, will also be in attendance. He’s gotten along with him in the past on set. Eccentric guy, a bit of a Namjoon fanatic, but birds of a feather flock together. Namjoon’s creative, kind, and visionary. It’s only natural Taehyung gravitates towards him in this industry.
Regardless, Jungkook’s nervous. He doesn’t voice his concern when you had disclosed that Taehyung was aware of your relationship history with Jungkook. He would never hold you back on talking about your troubles to your friends because it’s important to build that trust and rapport. He hopes his entire persona isn’t completely irreconcilable just yet with the time he’s spent trying to grow and cultivate a healthy relationship with you.
Once in the club, you make your rounds with Jungkook by your side. Lots of new faces, and maybe a select few that were recognizable as a result of the photography competition.
“Hey Jungkook, heard you were in the photography program,” one of the judges for the past photography competition, Rowoon, smiles, “I know at the end of your photography program they’re going to request for an internship. Let me know if you need help connecting with a photographer.”
“That’d be awesome.” Jungkook smiles.
Jungkook’s appreciative for moments like these, easy conversations blending in with your life. You’ve been surrounded with good people. Well, good enough for you to want to rekindle and meet up every so once in a while.
He watches you from afar now, a mocktail in hand as he lets the ice melt and lessen the syrupy taste of the drink.
You smile into your cup as one of your classmates animate a pose of some sort — probably from a recent project or client. Regardless, he finds himself smiling too, eyes focused on your figure. It’s all tunnel vision, really, how everything around you blurs and this gooey feeling swirls and pools in the pit of his stomach.
He recognizes this, having experienced this similar breakthrough in the past with previous partners. While the hard impact of the realization came far less than this moment, his feelings were undeniable.
He loves you.
An awful realization to have when you guys are out in public and not in privacy, where he can bare his emotions to you freely. His palms sweat, heart accelerating at the welcomed epiphany and rush.
He has been patient and gentle in these last couple of months. That, he’ll give himself credit for. But all the self work he’s done is about to leave as he’s one mocktail sip away from walking over to you and declaring his feelings.
Not the right place nor time. Certainly worse when he can’t drink to distract himself.
“Mind if I join ya?”
Jungkook startles out his thoughts, craning his neck to the side to find Kim Taehyung smiling lazily at him. He simply gestures for the empty stool, all while trying to relocate you after the minor detractor.
Even with the heavy bass of the club music, Jungkook’s eyes still remain on your figure, making sure you’re safe and having fun — as you should always be.
Taehyung grunts in his descent onto the barstool, gaze following where Jungkook looks at.
“You all socialed out?” Jungkook mindlessly asks — a miracle he’s strung up a coherent sentence.
Taehyung scoffs at the lack of focus, but replies, “Gets a little tiring explaining my gigs and seeing them react the same way.”
This time, Jungkook stares back at the seated man, completely understanding his sentiment. He knows exactly what Taehyung has experienced being in the industry — their little common ground.
“You know,” Taehyung begins, “I still don’t get the whole thing with you and her.”
Lips pursed, he drums his fingers on the bar counter, “How so?”
“Friends, but not. Lovers, but not.” Taehyung tips his drink back. “What are you guys even waiting for?”
What was Jungkook waiting for?
“Just want to take our time.” He replies. “Not trying to rush things.”
“Kind of backwards, don’t you think?” He shrugs his shoulders before continuing, “Look man, I’ll be upfront. I’m still on the fence about you.”
“I know.” Jungkook’s aware he’s far from perfect, knowing his hesitancy in moving forward stems from his insecurities and his fears of hurting you in the process.
“She likes you a lot. And I trust my best friend. If things go sour, well … at least we’ll know how to pick up the pieces this time around.”
Taehyung waves down the bartender for a refill. “I give her a lot of shit for putting herself in a box, but all she does is try. So why don’t you guys try?”
Jungkook’s been so afraid of hurting. In turn, he’s robbing you both of the possibility for something so much more. He loves what he has with you, but was this enough?
You turn, also finding him, and smile.
It’s not enough. He wants more — he needs more.
Taehyung settles back as he watches the scene unfold in front of him with a smug smile.
Finally.
Jungkook’s on autopilot as he weaves through the crowd. The back of his neck grows sweaty, less from the stuffy venue and more from his nerves and this final act of trying to do the right thing for once. He wants to do right by you, and right now all he wants is to be near you.
He needs to be near you.
You seem to think the same too, placing your empty glass onto the edge of the bar top. There aren’t any remnants of green or cherries, only a sliver of yellow on the bottom he recognizes as his trademark drink.
His heart drums against his chest as you do a quick side hug with the classmate, so eager to get to him in the midst of the hazy, man-made smoke and crowded dance floor.
The path to you was damn near impossible to get to, packed like sardines and people unwilling to move. Though, you both will always find a way to each other. Head tilted, you motion Jungkook to the side of the dance floor. It’s dimly lit, some of the club’s strobing lights don’t touch. Light’s not needed because you’re forever drawn to each other.
“Hi.” You smile up at him, eyes slightly droopy as your hand finds his. “Sorry. Haven’t been able to hang out with you that much tonight.”
He shakes his head, placing your hand behind his neck. Your fingers search for the longer locks he sported in the winter months, but you’ve always preferred his shorter cut. The prickle of the undercut was something you’ve longed for all night long. His silver hooped earrings graze your exposed wrist, the cold metal offering a nice touch on your hot skin.
He shakes his head, “‘S okay, Pix.” You both sway, neither of you really know what song is playing. It all blurs to white noise when you’re with each other. “Did you catch up with everyone?”
“Mhm.” You hum, leaning in to press your face against his chest. There’s a slight drop to your shoulders signifying your exhaustion, but Jungkook reads your demeanor like the back of his hands.
With a hum, he murmurs, “What’s on your mind?”
“Everyone’s in production companies.” You sulk, frown felt on his strong front.
Your words hold a little bitterness, a hint of dejection at the idea you weren’t exactly doing what everyone was doing. But that’s what made you special. You’re doing what you want to do and you’ve stuck by it.
“You ever think about joining one?” He asks into your hair.
You lift your head from his chest, chin digging into his sternum. “It’s not for me, but sometimes, I feel like I’m missing out.”
Just like how he thinks he might miss out on something wonderful if he continues as things are, but a club where you’re having a reunion with old classmates isn’t the right time or place for a confession.
Jungkook nods. “Can do whatever you want. The world’s your oyster.”
He doesn’t need any of the strobing lights or a spotlight in the tiny nook you’ve both claimed with the way you smile at him. Not when you stare up at him like he’s the world, ready to be claimed by you. Before he does anything too impulsive, he leads you both closer to the center of the dance floor. Back turned to him, his hands rest on the dips of your hips. Chin tucked in the crook of your neck, he takes in your jasmine and cucumber scent, wondering if you’re just as addicted to his scent.
“Did you have your usual?” He mumbles into your ear.
You shake your head, shivering from his voice. “Midori sour’s not always on the menu.”
He hums in agreement, thinking back to the arrangements he made at the club he hosted his celebratory party at. Honestly, there was no major issue requesting the addition of the drink; the manager was happy to accommodate.
“What’d you have earlier?” His voice comes out low, rumbling against you.
You nearly whimper your answer as he circles his arms around your midsection, not wanting to lose any physical contact from you. “Highball.”
His grin stretches across his face, muscle memory as his mouth salivates for the drink. “Did you like it?”
You turn around now, and Jungkook does little to reposition his forehead on yours. This time, another type of restraint courses through his body as his eyes bounce between your hooded stare and pouty lips.
“Mm, I wanted to try what you liked. Not my thing,” you conclude. “Wasn’t sweet at all.”
Jungkook doesn’t need the additional sweetness in his drinks when he’s surrounded by sweetness in his life. Can do away with sugar because you’re here.
“What did you have tonight?” You ask back.
“Wild night with some sort of wild berry mocktail.” He teases.
“Lucky, I wish I had that.” Your eyes drop to his lips — he follows your line of vision as you look back up at him.
“Was nice.” He concedes, voice dropping an octave. “Better if it was a highball.”
The music’s loud, but nothing’s louder than the drumming in his ears — the voice in his head yelling at him to close the gap between you two. The same gap you both maintained in these last couple of months. It’s been working so well for you two, reworking your foundation and taking things slow all while hoping it would lead to your desired goal: each other.
Jungkook’s forehead remains on yours, lips parted slightly at your delayed blinks. And although the label had always blurred between the two of you, he had always been yours. Yours, when he entered the establishment with his hand on your hips, guiding you away from rowdy groups at the main point of entrance. Yours, when all you’ve done tonight was match his stares, wanting so badly to be in his company instead of folks you haven’t spoken to in years face to face.
All yours.
“Want a taste?” You ask, making no move to go to the bar. He stays rooted there too, knowing full well he’s not allowed a single drop of alcohol in his system. The entrancement lasts all but a second before a flicker of fear flashes across your features.
Deja vu.
Was this all a figment of your imagination and it could get ripped from you any moment? If you lean in like you did months ago, would you be punished by rejection again?
Your brows furrow, eyes pleading up at Jungkook to answer your unspoken questions.
And he reads you so easily — remembers you and knows your insecurities before you do sometimes.
He breathes you in, nose now nestled against your own with no intentions of ever leaving.
“Please?” Your warmth fans over to him, a soft plea worthy of ending wars Jungkook would only qualify as his own battles.
He thinks about that night at the club where you had left him, foolishly clutching onto the flimsy cone-shaped cups while the world spun with you nowhere in sight. Thinks about the prospect of you leaving again and how ruined he’d be without you.
Jungkook pleads with you too now, “Please don’t leave me.”
You shake your head. “I’m right here.”
He thinks he deserves a little bit of heaven. Funny, how he thinks the universe could grant him kisses from a million angels, but he’d only want a lifetime of yours. The last thing he sees are two slow blinks from your sparkly-glittered lids, pulling and signaling him into a soft landing: to home — he finally finds his way back home.
He cups your face, delicate in how he holds you because there’s nothing more he’d like to do than to handle you with all the care and tenderness in the world. He sighs into your lips, relieved to finally have you like this. Where you both meet in the middle now.
Highball, in the simplest terms, was bland whiskey. The taste of the drink was probably the furthest thing you can get to the sweetness of your typical midori sour. And yet, you still tried for him. He knows how much you try for him and you’ve done your best to accept him — the work and effort you put into adoring Jungkook never goes unnoticed.
He doesn’t taste the highball, none of the usual remnants of the drink he’s grown to like as he runs his tongue over your plump lips. Perhaps it’s also that he no longer searches for that familiar aftertaste; instead, welcoming something he’s longed for and missed these months. His tongue moves over your lips again, slow and deliberate to savor the sweetness.
Your mouth parts for him, a tentative push of his tongue and you’re reduced to putty. He trails one hand down your hip, pulling you flush against him.
It’s all muscle memory, how puzzle pieces fit just for you and Jungkook. He groans against your mouth, the low sound vibrates through your body, sending a shock through your body and heat building in your middle.
Your name is all but a rasp as Jungkook goes straight to your lips again after your small whine. He can’t get enough of you, the background noise and people blurring in his pursuit of you. You kiss him back. Months after months of waiting, slowly rebuilding, knowing exactly where the finish line is … and the kiss now was just one of your many monumental milestones with Jungkook.
He needs to pull away for air, mindful of your own state too despite his unwillingness to stray away. It’s everything he’d expect a kiss from you to be after all this time: sweet, with no hint of the drink he fancied.
Nose nestled to yours and brazen smiles exchanged, Jungkook does his best to regulate his breathing.
“You’d ever give highball another try, Pix?” He breathes, peppering tinier kisses on your lips, rendering it nearly impossible to properly respond.
“Yeah.” You reply in between kisses. “I’d try it again. It’s worth another chance.”
When he finally pulls away with much reluctance, his heart drums against his chest at your response — at your implication.
You wanted this with him.
“You’ll teach me how to properly drink it?” You look at him with the softest gaze.
He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Will drink it with you.”
No one was talking about the drink. Though, much like the drink, love and affection was always better shared and experienced together.
And it’s so much better savoring those moments with you.
You and Jungkook eventually leave the dance floor to socialize with your other classmates, catching Taehyung with a content smile as he peers down at your interlinked hands. Jungkook’s hand involuntarily tightens around yours and you look up, eyes holding a playful curiosity as to what he wants.
You mouth, ‘You tired?’
He shakes his head no, though, his droopy eyelids and slight sway to his body tells you otherwise. You’re also tired too, wanting nothing more than to be with your desired source of warmth.
You quickly make your rounds, bidding your farewells and blaming your age for not being able to stay longer. Thankfully, a couple of your other classmates left before you, so your attempt to leave didn’t look out of the blue. Your goodbye with Taehyung takes a little longer as he whispers something in your ear, eyes playful as you pull away and lightly smack his arm.
Jungkook smiles once you’re back by his side, the cold night air hitting you both outside the club. He offered to run to the car while you wait back, but you insisted on coming with him. “Ready for the walk, Miss Rock?”
With narrowed eyes, you huddle closer, pretty pout on your lips he so wants to kiss.
“You said I looked great.” You huff, beginning the long trek back to the car.
“The Rock looked great, and so do you, Pix.” He teases.
Three minutes into your walk, a random downpour starts out of nowhere.
Jungkook takes off his brown jacket, slinging it over both your bodies as you do your best to run from the rain. Shared incredulous giggles and glances with each other made the trip back even better. Unable to fully avoid the downpour, Jungkook opts to just cover you with his jacket. The theatrics continue once a car passes, wheels producing a splash over your bodies.
Unneeding of the jacket now, you lower the jacket around your shoulder, tugging Jungkook through the rain as you both near the car. He looks at you from behind, catching your stare back while urging him to move quicker.
But he’s in no rush.
He’s never been in a rush with you.
Steps coming to a halt, you look back again with a questioning expression. His hair’s matted on his forehead, eyes squinting from the rain water, but he can see you so clearly under the yellow of the streetlights.
He says your name, your steps stumble as you land in his embrace. Cold fingers run on your cheek before he admits, “I don’t think I can just be what we’ve been. I want this with you — I want to be with you.”
He doesn’t ask you if you want the same. Didn’t have the chance as his eyes widened the same moment your lips met his.
Rain beats down on your bodies, hard and punishing. The cold water seeping through your clothing is nothing compared to the heat searing from your bodies. Your fingers run through his hair from behind, urging him closer if it were possible. His hold on you tightens and you unconsciously arch into him, no longer caring how the rain water runs down your face.
Jungkook breaks apart from the kiss, “It’s always been you, P.” Warm breath on your lips as he utters words he's long realized and wanted to tell you, “I … I’m in love with you.”
It’s freeing. Not just his confession, but how the rain continues washing out everything around you both. The good, the bad. The aftermath of a storm allows for rebuilding — for flowers to blossom, for growth and to start anew.
He thinks about all the time spent together and apart — the happiness, trust, and fears … it all inevitably brings him back to you. And as the rain waters continue to fall, he finds himself free falling into your embrace — the easy love.
“I love you,” You profess, brows pulling together tears mixing in with the rain, “So much. You know that, yeah?”
He does. But even so, he still asks, “Please be with me.” He chews on the inside of his mouth, so fearful of rejection as though you could choose any other route. “Please?”
You nod, leaning in for a kiss that could only seal your answer to him. “I’m yours. Always been yours.”
A relieved chuckle stutters from his chest, holding you close. “Home?”
“Home.” You reply.
Jungkook’s home was closer in proximity, so it would only be natural to head over there to change out of your soaked clothes. Even with the seat warmers turned onto the highest setting and his jacket slung over your lap like it was in the beginning of the night, you shiver and shudder in your seat.
“Can use my shower too, P.” He pushes his wet bangs back and reasons, “Don’t want you catching a cold.”
“Mmkay,” Your teeth involuntarily chatters, hands tucked in between your thighs underneath his jacket to retain your heat.
His hand naturally finds yours. “We’ll be home soon, ‘kay?”
Back at his home, he gives you a spare t-shirt with some sweatpants, letting you know that he’ll shower at the guest bathroom while you use the master bedroom’s. It’s not your first time in his bedroom, having been there a couple times when he was busy and needed you to retrieve something for him in there. The citrus scent embraces you as you walk in, fingers tightening around his clothes. He’s fumbling around his dresser to get his own clothing, hair dried to a damp mess and coarse at the ends from the washed away hair products. His shirt drags over his large frame, seemingly heavier around the shoulder area from the rainwater.
Back still turned away, he cranes his neck to you and catches your curious stare. “Go on and use the shower, P.”
You nod, clothes feeling unbearingly tight whether it be from the rain or the suffocating dilemma of not wanting to leave Jungkook’s side.
In the shower, he’s still with you through the shampoo and body wash. You run your hands around your body, knowing this is your way of keeping him close. Will you need to go home after this? Does the mirage end here with the suds of soap pooling at your toes?
Does it end with his scent on your body?
All dried and in his clothes, you stare at the mirror, a small smile playing at your lips at the visual of your body drowned in his oversized t-shirt. You roll the bottom of the sweatpants and tug at the drawstrings to secure around your waist.
You peer into his bedroom. “Jungkook?” No response.
Walking out to the living space, you notice a tuft of hair on the large couch’s armrest. Two glasses of water — all full — just like your heart, rests on the coffee table. Peering over the couch, your lover lays there, eyes closed with a rhythmic breathing pattern nowhere close to being asleep.
You come around and seat yourself on the edge of the couch. An unsuspecting force pulls you down, followed by a small ‘oomph,’ you attempt to sit back up.
“Can we rest a little before I take you home?” He mumbles, breathing into your hair.
Your ear is pressed against his chest, his heart thumping way too fast for rest. Working up your courage, you snuggle into his warmth as you murmur, “It’s late. Don’t want you driving at this hour.” Before he could ask if you’d want him to fetch a cab, you follow up with, “If it’s okay … can I stay over tonight?”
The drumming in his chest speeds up, but his words come out assertive. “Of course, P.”
The guest room sits empty as Jungkook leads you back to his bedroom, a sleepy smile on his face as he catches your yawn and places the glass of water onto the nightstand closest to where you’ll sleep. He hooks his index fingers in the collar of his shirt and yanks it over his head, tossing the article of clothing on the ottoman near the foot of his bed.
You swallow, eyes raking over his toned body you’ve grown so familiar with. His tattoo lines look darker under the warm hues of his nightlight. Underneath his covers, your eyes fight to stay open, only allowing them to blink shut when he encircles his arms around you.
“Night, P.” He mumbles.
“Good night, Kook.”
Around 5 a.m. you wake up with the worst case of dry mouth, having already drank the glass of water in the middle of the night, and another time Jungkook refilled without your knowledge. You pout at the glass sitting pretty and empty on the nightstand.
There’s an unfamiliar weight on your midsection causing you to suck in a breath as you look down. Intricate patterns and faded colors greet you before you turn your head to meet their owner.
Jungkook’s on his front, pouty mouth parted and lashes kissing the top of his cheeks. His rhythmic light snores tell you he’s still in deep slumber if not for the sleep-lines on the side of his face where he buries himself further into his fluffy pillows.
There’s a stillness in waking up next to Jungkook like this — at the realization there’s no need to run or leave. He’s here within a distance you can comfortably reach.
You think back to last night, between the kisses and confessions, everything seemed like a dream. You’re tempted to reach over to brush away the strand of his bangs. Want to see if he’d stir awake and look at you as he did before you both fell asleep last night.
That’s the funny thing about love — can’t bear the selfishness and greed of your own desires. So instead, you do your best to uncurl from his lazy hold, already missing his warmth as you grab the rims of your glass to fetch some water.
You’ve only been over in the afternoon and evening, never knowing the brisk morning air. Jungkook’s room was warm, temperature maintained by the heat of your bodies, but in the open living space, you shiver a little from cold and the absence of a familiar body.
Glass refilled, you make your way back to Jungkook, but something pulls you to an abrupt stop.
You’ve only seen this view at night, always curious how differing the morning view would be. Orange peeks and greets you on the horizon, begging for your presence even when there is another star you rather be with.
Just a couple more minutes and the sun will rise — a view you’ve never seen from here. Lips nursing on your glass, you smile as you hear another pair of feet shuffle in your direction. Not subtle at all. He makes his presence known with a small yawn, standing behind you, he presses his chest against you from behind and wraps his arms around your abdomen.
“Whatcha doing up so early?” Voice laced with sleep.
“Wanted to get water,” you bring the glass up to his view, “sun’s about to rise now.” You nod at the window.
His body vibrates against yours at a particularly low chuckle. “‘S nice, isn’t it? Can see everything from here.”
You hum in agreement. You love the view, love his touch, love him. And because you love him, you give him the remainder of your water. Glass now empty again, he sets the cup on a small stand. The surrounding air stifles as a strong pair of arms wrap around you tighter, cluing in a shift in the easy morning conversation.
“P, I meant everything I said last night.” He says, afraid you hadn’t retained any recollection of last night’s event — as though all the magic last night was all but a trick and illusion.
There’s no illusion in your adoration for him, turning away from the sun, you realize you have everything in front of you worth orbiting for.
“I meant everything too.” You reply, feeling the sun warm your back, but even that source of warmth wasn’t enough incentive to have you turning away from Jungkook again. “I love you. Wanna be with you.”
You tip-toe, lips pressing delicately against his only spurs on his tiny moan as he meets you in the middle. His teeth nibble on your bottom lip, causing you to part them with a small gasp. He takes this moment to lick into your mouth, tongue running against yours to savor you. He could blame the morning wood on … well, the morning, and not your soft lips, but he’s wanted you like this for so long and now you’re finally his.
He angles your chin, doing his best to distract you from the bulge pressed against your stomach, to which you also push against. Grunting, he huffs into your mouth, “Pix, please.”
You hum a small ‘what?’
So dangerous of you to push something he’s been suppressing for months. Aching for your touch, but he’s respectful of the change in dynamics. He wants to be respectful now, but was there a need?
“I’m trying to be good.” He mumbles, kissing along your jaw and making his way down your neck. His teeth rake against the expanse of your skin, reveling in your shivers and the way your nails dig into his back.
“You are good.” You sigh prettily. “So good to me.”
And because of this, Jungkook wants to show you other ways he could be good to you. It’s what you deserve — nothing makes him happier than making you feel good. Back pressed against the glass panes, the initial cold morphs and changes with the sun and your combined body heat.
His hand snakes up your shirt, large palm halting at your stomach until you nod for him to move.
Finally after a small plea from your lips, he finally moves to cup your breast. You moan at the contact of his thumb moving over your hardening bud.
“Feels good, pretty?” He mouths against your neck.
You swallow and nod, “J-Jungkook, can people,” another moan slips as he sucks on a particularly sensitive juncture of your neck, “see us from here?”
Being on the thirty-fourth floor had its perks and advantages. He doesn’t have next door neighbors except for the floor above and below him, which works in his favor.
“No one can see us, P.” He shakes his head, “You want them to?”
He grips your chest a little harder, urging for an answer before he continues. Head lifted to your face, his hooded eyes draw you in.
“No,” you place a soft kiss on his jaw, “Want this just between us.”
He also can’t imagine having another person watch you both. Can’t imagine sharing an experience like this with someone other than you.
“Yeah, it’s just you and me.”
The hand on your hip runs up your front, cupping your cheek first before he slips a soft request while looking at your lips, “Open, please.”
Your mouth parts, and his hand drags over your cheek, his middle and ring finger probing and sliding over your wet muscle. His cock twitches in his sweats at the thought of possibly feeling your mouth again. Those thoughts break the moment you close around his digits, warm and wet around him. Your cheeks hollow without command as you eagerly suck on his fingers. You look at him with determined eyes, fighting to stay open but loses the battle before fluttering shut when his thumb runs over your hard nipple again.
“Gonna make you feel good.” He promises, “‘s that okay?”
You nod, unable to verbalize a response with his fingers in your mouth. Soon his wet fingers slip out of your mouth and he slips them past the waistband of your folded sweats.
“Oh god,” Your hips buck back from the sudden contact of his fingers, ass pushed against the glass. “P-please.” You beg, unsure of what exactly but Jungkook takes it as a request to move. His middle finger slots perfectly between your wet folds, circling around the bundle of nerves.
“Wanna touch you, too.” You plead, “Can I?”
He tips his forehead against yours, hips pushed against your hand. “Uh-huh, want you to touch me.”
Your hand slips into his sweats, making contact with his bare length. The angle of your bodies makes it difficult to tug or squeeze as you like, but he shudders just by the mere contact of your soft hand.
“P, don’t—” He moves back slightly to peer down at your hand working over his length. “Don’t tease.”
Lip tucked between his teeth, his own hand speeds up over your clit, wet sounds growing by the second. He hopes you do the same too, but you keep your lazy strokes, watching him with hooded eyes. “Not,” you pause, eyes closing when he nears you, pressing a dainty kiss, “teasing.”
“Tell me what you need.” You murmur against his lips.
“Faster,” He whines, “need you to go faster—fuck—” He groans when you comply, hand picking up the pace.
And be it from the patience and time endured after months of dreaming of being with you … or he was just that easy, he finishes in his sweats in under a minute. Your hand slowly jerks over his length, hand coated in his cum.
“Koo, did you cum?” You breathe, unsure from the sudden liquidy warmth. He moans a small yes, angling his head for your kisses on his neck, teeth dragging over his collarbone as a reward for his confirmation. Your hand glides over the head of his sensitive cock. “Made a mess all for me.”
He kisses you, deft fingers on your clit as he touches away the embarrassment of cumming before he’s gotten to properly take care of you. It’s no give or take situation, but he wants to give back to you.
He removes his hand and you nearly cry out at the loss of his touch. Your cum covered hand gets tugged from his pants at the same time. Doesn’t care you’re unconsciously wiping away your hand on your shirt — everything was going into the wash anyway, ridding any evidence of the sinful acts you’ll both willingly partake in.
How sinful were they if they were embarked by two people in love?
Fingers hooked on the waistband of your sweats, he drags them down your hips, leaving both your soaked underwear and pants pool at your ankles. His eye contact never wavers as he drops down on his knees. His eye drops at the long shirt length covering your bare cunt, and with a knowing glance, you hold the bottom of the shirt, while the other one falls on the side of his head for support as nudges your legs apart.
“So perfect,” he praises, eyes peering up at you, “All mine.” His fingers form a ‘v’ as he spreads your glistening folds, mouth watering at the sight of your twitching clit. He moves in, placing a kiss on the side of your pussy, just shy of your nub. The action has you furrowing your brows, mouth dropping open as you involuntarily push your hips forward.
You mewl, thighs closing when he finally slots his tongue over the self-made opening between his fingers. He licks, sucks, and kisses the tiny nub. And you stand there, taking everything he’s willing to give you. He loves watching you struggle maintaining eye contact, loves the shy smile you give him when you had a moment of realization of how loud you were in the early hours of his home, and loves the small tug from your fingers in his hair when he repeatedly presses his lips to your clit.
You were already so close before this, but now he has you tipping on the edge again. Jungkook’s eyes close, tongue lapping your cunt.
Your thighs shake, breath caught in your throat as he continues the motions. And even though he’s not looking at you, he knows you’re about to let go as you rock your hips into his face. Using one hand, his fingers dig into the back of your thigh as he brings one of them over his shoulder.
“Baby–” You rasp.
“Hm?” He answers, muffled against your core. The vibrations against your cunt have your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your lids slam shut from the sensation.
You whimper, stomach clenching at the first signal of your orgasm. Your fingers clutch pathetically at the end of the shirt, mindful of the other hand interlocked with his locks. But you’re bolder now, know what you like and need … and what you like is Jeon Jungkook moaning against your core, encouraging you to cum. What you need is to extend this feeling for as long as you can, so you push his head closer as you grind your spasming cunt to his face.
“Cumming,” you manage to get out, “Oh fuck, I’m cumming.”
Jungkook can’t answer, wishes he could; though, all his wishes are being fulfilled as he’s head deep between your legs. He pulls away after your hips press back against the glass, signaling your sensitive state. Hooded gaze fixed, he takes in the visual of your cheek pressed onto your shoulder — a habit he’s noticed every time you’ve cummed. Your eyes blink open slowly, blinded by the light coming in from the rising sun.
“I’m sorry, P.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all with his mischievous grin as he kisses your inner thigh — the one he has thrown over his shoulder. “You missed the sunrise.”
You croon, a small playful pout on your lips. “I did.” You release his hair, hand cupping his jaw. You moan in surprise when he latches onto your clit again, lazy sucks as he peers up at you.
He places one last kiss to your nub and suggests, “Should turn around then, take in the current view.” He leaves out the fact that you’ll have plenty of more chances to see the view.
He places your leg down. While wobbly at first, you plant your feet sturdy before complying with his request. He’s right — the city’s beautiful.
Jungkook also has the best view in the city too.
You look back at him from your shoulder, eyes catching his, “You’re not watching with me?”
“Perfect view here.” He scoots back a little, ignoring the discomfort and numbness in his knees. You brace against the glass, fist clenched tightly at the anticipation of what your lover wants to do. No one cares about the prospect of a stained glass as you hinge your hips out to him, the underside of your wet pussy entrances him.
He pushes your shirt up over the curves of your hips and the sight before him has his cock hardening in his sweats again. A creamy white sheen trickles down your slit, begging to be licked up before it dribbles onto the floor.
And he does. With a cock to his head, he slots his mouth over your leaky cunt.
You wail, cheek pressed against the glass as you fog up a small section with your warm puffs of air. His tongue laps over your clenched hole, pleased you haven’t pulled away from him. He rewards you with a small probe of his tongue and you surprise him again by pushing back, tongue gliding into your warm cavern with little resistance.
You both moan, caught in the euphoric moment of this new experience.
He reels his head back, spreading you wide to look at your gaping pussy — all his doing.
“Please,” you beg, greedy for his mouth. Without warning, he dives back in, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole with a new profound hunger. One of his hands comes from under and rubs at your clit. The new feeling has your legs shaking again, your hand coming around to place on top of his to ground yourself.
He pulls away, placing wet kisses alongside your thighs. “You liked that, Pix?”
“Yeah, I loved it.” You reply, looking back at him through your lashes.
“Good.” He chuckles, stomach warm from your confession, “Keep looking at the view though. Sun’s pretty today.”
The sun’s pretty every day, you think to yourself as you look at your source of light. But you turn away, obedient as you look at the rays the rest of the world relies on.
“Gonna do something new, ‘kay?” He says, strained as he places a small kiss on one of your cheeks. He lets his teeth graze your skin, fingers digging into the meat of your ass to gain your confirmation. “Tell me if you don’t like it.”
You nod, can’t think of anything you won’t like aside from being away from Jeon Jungkook, but you’re sure to vocalize any discomfort for whatever journey he’s about to embark with you.
“Open wider for me.” He husks. You comply, feet shuffling apart as you hinge lower.
You couldn’t predict what he wanted to try with you, certainly not anything remotely close to how he parts your ass and you feel his breath on your skin before he leans in.
You nearly cry out at the first lick over the tight ring of your asshole. There was an adjusting period, one that involved your breasts pressed hard against the window, mouth hanging open as Jungkook goes in for another lick.
It’s not unpleasant. New, like he mentioned.
“You taking in everything, P?” His finger slips over your cunt, long index finger teasing the entrance. He takes his time running his fingers between your wet folds, watching your bleary eyes struggle to stay open. It’s fine. You’ll have plenty more opportunities to see the view in the future — he’ll make sure of it.
You moan at the feeling of his finger probing the entrance of your pussy, hole clenched around nothing as he continues teasing you.
“Hm? Answer me, pretty.” His tongue teases around your taint. This time, you relax into it, even going as far as pushing back.
“Mhm,” you try, “‘s pretty.”
You have your head turned again, watching him the best you could, completely unfocused from the view beyond the massive curtain wall. A wrecked moan escapes the moment his long digit pushes into your sensitive cunt — just up to the first knuckle, nothing more. At the same moment, his tongue guides itself past the tight ring of your hole.
You don’t know what to focus on: his tongue fucking into your ass or his finger coated in your arousal as he has you plugged up on both holes simultaneously.
Jungkook’s always been an ass man, and he honors the title as he continuously dives his head between your cheeks. The finger inside your other hole stays in place, never pushing another inch until you whine and reach between your legs. Your fingers touch the top of his, pushing at them to sink deeper into your pussy.
He pushes his digit into you, the full length wrapped around your wet walls. “Do what you need to make this feel good.” He says. “Want you to feel good.”
A content sigh leaves your lips as you rub slow circles, pleasure building again in your stomach as each minute slips by. You’ve never been one to cum multiple times … unfortunately, you’re no better than a man. One and done type of girl, but the eagerness to cum again from this new experience has you motivated and greedy for more. Especially when the experience is with someone you love and care for.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum again.” You announce, pushing your ass back to his face as he continues fucking his tongue into your ass. He groans and nods, picking up the pace from behind with fervor at the mention of your orgasm.
His finger gradually speeds up, curling a little before he decides to add another finger in.
Oh.
“This okay?” He asks as he senses a change in your demeanor at the sudden intrusion.
You whimper, body stiff and rigid during the adjustment period. The stretch has you halting before you’re rubbing feverishly against your clit, babbling and begging for him to move faster.
Jungkook’s lucky on the thirty-fourth floor. So lucky no one’s able to hear the the sounds you make both from your mouth and wet cunt as he fucks his digits faster as requested. He curls his fingers and your legs start shaking, your hand no longer able to move as you take everything Jungkook gives from behind.
You gasp, his name falls from your lips as you let go. There’s definitely an imprint of your mouth and cheek on his glass window now, memoirs of the acts you both committed.
The wetness grows between your legs, both holes pulsating as you finally cum around him again. Jungkook groans, letting you ride out your orgasm as you need.
He removes both his fingers and tongue from your holes and parts your ass to marvel at the mess you’ve made. The puffy ring of your ass shines with his spit, while your pussy quivers from the aftermath of your strong orgasm. He thinks about how it would be if you were stuffed full of him right now, but he’s in no rush with you. Knows there’s no time constraint to loving you right this time around. Your shirt drops from the curve of your hips and down to your knees as you stand upright, turning and pressing your back to the glass again. Jungkook stands up, fingers already in his to lick up any remnants of cum.
His arms wrap around your waist to hold you up, forehead touching yours as it’s meant to. Doesn’t go for a kiss no matter how much he wants to because he’s not sure of your aversion after where his mouth has been. But you don’t care, looping your arms over his neck and slotting your lips over his for a messy kiss, eventually reduced to small pecks.
“You okay, P?” He asks with round eyes. You nod and ask the same in a hushed whisper.
Why wouldn’t he be when he’s got all he’s ever wanted in his arms? He rubs over your back in a soothing motion, “More than okay, P.”
More kisses are shared, until Jungkook murmurs how he’s still tired and wants to go back to bed. You look at the clock and as tempted you are, you hum and shake your head. His eyes widen at your response, about to offer a quick retort, but you beat him to it.
“You said you had registration for the upcoming semester in a couple hours. Didn’t you say you needed to work on a schedule?”
He tips his head back, both grateful and upset at your memory after he mentioned it to you in passing last week.
Still, these things can be done while in the comforts of his bed and your company. Hand enclosed in his, he tugs you back to his bedroom, no longer omitting the same warmth when you left.
But perhaps, the warmth was anywhere you were with Jungkook.
Saturn takes twenty-nine years to complete its cycle. When you turned twenty-nine, you thought your Saturn was still out there, taking their sweet time with the journey back home.
“Pixie?”
“Coming!” You call out, finishing the last touch of your dusty-pink blush. Smoothing out your sage-green dress, you do a small once-over in your mirror before properly greeting your boyfriend.
Your Saturn’s returned, watching you embark on your new adventure, cheering you on through your wins and losses. Jungkook smiles from the doorway, leather dress shoes placed neatly on the side. His hair is styled as he would for all the wedding events he’s gone to with you, but this was a new suit. Usually in black, the light grey suit brings out his dark features even more — boyish charms emulated with his suit jacket off and hooked on his fingers over a shoulder. The brooches on his vest glimmer on the side, adding a nice finishing touch to his wedding guest look for the evening.
He shines either way when his orbs land on your features, taking in your soft curls and dress you’ve chosen.
“Pretty.” He’s kind enough to not kiss you, seeing you’ve just freshly applied your lipstick, but you’ve never been opposed to reapplying. You tip-toe to plant a soft kiss, not enough to transfer any product, but enough to tempt him for further damage.
“You look very handsome.” You say, hands automatically coming up to fix the angle of his tie. Spring’s weather is ever unpredictable and today’s one of the more warmer days of the week, but the temperatures rise in the small nook of your home as he stares at you.
To avoid any potential deterrence, you move behind him to get to your shoe rack. He presses his back against the wall opposite to you, watching as you crouch down to pick out a strappy nude heel.
“What if we skipped the wedding, Pix?”
You pout, blowing at the random strands of hair in your peripheral. “Your friend would be disappointed. Plus, we both got all done up. Would be a waste if we didn’t go.”
“It’s not a waste,” he replies, “can just have a night in.”
“Also would give me an excuse to get out of these dress pants.” He adds with a scowl.
You lean away, doing a double take on the slacks he has on. You’ve always fancied a guy in dress pants and Jungkook was no exception. Loves how his thighs fill up the spaces and how his ass looks in them.
“Couple hours and we can have a night in.” You reassure with a soft smile. “I’ve got a watermelon in the fridge waiting for us.”
The wedding was standard, especially with it belonging to someone you don’t know. Technically most, if not all, weddings you’ve gone to have belonged to strangers. But there was something special about this wedding — it’s the first time you attended a wedding with Jungkook where you aren’t working.
Weddings have always felt magical; the usual string of fairy lights and flower arrangements appear even more enchanting tonight. And you realized, the enchantment started months ago at Yoongi and Hoseok’s union.
During cocktail hour, he made sure to get all your favorite finger foods without request. When the ring bearer and flower girl comes into view during the ceremony, he’s quick to move higher on his seat, letting you peer past him to get a better look at the little ones. And when he holds your waist during the reception’s dance, you know weddings are magical because the moment’s shared with him.
“This was nice. Thanks for having me as your plus-one.” You sigh in content, cheek rested on his chest as you both slow dance to When a Man Loves a Woman.
He snorts, lighthearted and warm. “I’m glad you enjoyed.” Meant as a sarcastic remark, he also agrees this evening was a lot nicer than he had anticipated in the month leading up to this day.
“I really love weddings.” You mumble to yourself.
He loves weddings with you. Jungkook presses his cheek on the top of your head, “I know.”
You and Jungkook stay like this for a while through a couple slow songs until the DJ changes up the genre of the music, signaling older couples to evacuate the dance floors for the younger crowd to reminisce on an era where their knees existed for the thrill of it all.
Your bodies move in tandem: his, warming your back, and your bottom pushed against his groin with your preferred pressure, knowing you’d never go overboard at a wedding but just enough for him to have him let out a shy chuckle.
His breath fans over the shell of your ear, “I really hate these dress pants, P.”
You turn your head to him, sultry expression matching his hooded lids. “Why’s that?”
“Shows everything.” He laughs through his nose, “Can’t leave here any time soon now.”
You ease up a little, facing him again while your fingers slide over the brooches resting on the left side of his chest — where his heart resides. He’d argue his heart is in his arms staring up at him.
“I’ve always loved you in dress pants.” You confess. “‘Cause that’s when we’re at weddings together.”
Considering how he leans down, pressing a small kiss to your lips where you reciprocate with another lingering kiss, maybe being in dress pants isn’t that bad.
“Have we met our quota yet, Pix?” He nudges his nose against yours.
For someone who loves weddings, you’re eager to go home, too. You want nothing more than to just spend time with Jungkook in the comforts of your home.
“Quota met.”
Sheltered by the indoor venue, you didn’t realize how humid it got outside in the time spent at the wedding. Your apartment was practically a sauna by the time you and Jungkook arrived back at your place. Opening up your windows, you have a fan running in the background to air out the space.
“Sorry,” You say sheepishly while cutting into the watermelon. Your eyes rake over Jungkook where he unbuttons his grey vest and rolls up his sleeves to reveal his tattooed arm.
He shakes his head, taking two spoons from your drawers, “It’ll cool down.”
Will it?
Air heavy with both the atmospheric moisture and tension brewing between you and Jungkook all evening, you’re not so sure if the temperatures will drop any time soon. The watermelon center caves as you both dig with the metal spoons. You favored the center; whereas, Jungkook aimed closer to the watermelon rind.
He peers over at you where you stand. Hair now put up by a claw clip, he counts the baby hairs sticking onto the back of your neck, momentarily forgetting to dig into the watermelon when it’s his turn.
“Why do you only pick at the sides?” Your brows twitch, digging into the middle again and turning to him with a center piece.
He shrugs, opening his mouth on cue for you to stick your spoon into his mouth. Sure, the middle pieces were sweet, but he thinks they might be sweeter coming from you. He chews and swallows, tilting his head a little to meet your equally sticky lips.
“Sweet either way, Pix.” He wonders if the salty moisture on your skin would pair well with the sweet watermelon.
Well, one way to find out.
No longer following a script, Jungkook moves on his own accord — loving and falling freely as he likes knowing you’ll be there to catch him. He shifts his body, head dipped in the crook of your neck as he licks a thick stripe over your neck. You gasp, spoon dropping onto the counter as your hands fly to grab onto his forearms for support.
He’s right; you do bring out more sweetness.
The half eaten watermelon sits on your counter, long forgotten in the pursuit of Jungkook’s body pressed to yours. His lips slot perfectly on you, a relieved sigh escapes as your bodies move as it’s desired all evening.
He trails kisses down the column of your throat, marking a pathway on your collarbone. Fingers in his hair, your grip on him tightens as you shyly ask, “Bed?”
Knees digging onto your bed, you sit up taller to kiss your still-standing boyfriend. He’s busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt while you race to unbuckle his belt — a race no one formally declared, but it was an unspoken need. And you both needed each other … badly.
You beat him, of course. The black Calvin Klein lettering on the banding greets you first as the front opening flaps of his pants fall to the side. He whimpers as you run your hand over his bulge.
“Can I …” Your sentence trails off as you kiss along his exposed neck.
He nods unsure of what you exactly want, but the godforsaken dress pants drop and pool at his ankles without a second thought. You kiss your way down his torso, paying extra attention to his chest. With a determined look, you stick your tongue out on his hard nipple for a tentative lick to glean at his response.
Oh, it’s good — so, so, so good.
He shivers, hand hitting your claw clip as it flies to the back of your neck to hold you in place. Your teeth grazes over the hardened bud, a sliver of pained pleasure courses through as you bite down with a gentle force. He hisses, mouth dropping open to bite back his moans. You remedy the pain with your tongue, silently apologizing without actually feeling sorry.
You slither lower on all fours as you take his hard cock out of its confinements. Round eyes look up at him for permission to proceed.
There’s a slight hesitance in your actions as the last time you wanted to give him a blowjob, he made it a goal to stay protected for both your sakes. He’s always for safe sex, but he knows he’s clean and wants to feel your bare lips around him as long as you’ll allow it. You seem to share the same sentiment as you tilt your head up, eyes burning with want and ownership of his bare skin.
Still, you ask, “Do we need a condom for this?” The thin straps of your pretty evening gown cascades loosely on your shoulders.
“No, but only if you want …” Jungkook pants, a harsh exhale when you give him a gentle squeeze. The small, pleased sound you make, paired with another harder tug confirms your answer.
He releases your hair from the clip, watching it cascade down your shoulders. Bunching your hair in a messy ponytail, he uses it as an anchor as you tug on his shaft.
“Spit on it.” He pleads, groaning when you comply. Your saliva lands on the tip, dripping over the small bead of precum on his slit. So messy how your thumb glides over his slit, mixing the fluids together. Even messier when you place a kiss on his tip, mixed fluids tainting your pretty lips. His stomach contracts, the dips and ridges of his abs are even more defined as a result.
“Missed this with you, Pix.” He melts. It’s even better than how he imagined over the course of time spent with and without you.
“I missed you, too.” You reply, tongue darting out and wetting your lips before moving in for a small lick over the head of his cock. “I wanna take care of you.” You mumble as you press messy kisses on the underside of his cock. “Is that okay?”
His stomach warms at your sentiment, knowing it’ll never be one-sided as he’ll always do the same for you. He nods, giving you the go ahead to do as you like. The grip on your hair increases and the hand cupped underneath your chin props you upright to take him fully.
He wonders how a place like heaven could ever beat this feeling with you.
Your eyes never stray from his, watching him through your lashes and how he struggles to maintain eye contact with you. It’s only when his cock begins hitting the back of your throat, your lids flutter shut. You gag from the action, pushing past the discomfort each time to hear more of his grunts and praises. Your skin prickles each time his thumb runs across your skin to soothe your aching jaw.
“Fuck, Pix, if we keep going like — god,” he hisses, “I’m not gonna last long.” He warns.
“Mmhp,” You try to answer even with your mouth fully stuffed. He pulls back and you whine, robbed at the opportunity of having him release all over your tongue.
“Please,” you breathe, hoarse and rough, “wanna taste you.”
Your mouth falls open again. Instead of sliding in again, Jungkook jerks over his length, fast as he needs with the visual of you on your knees so readily to be ruined.
“Baby–I, I’m gonna cum. Fuck,” He tilts his head up to the ceiling.
And when he finally cums, he does so with your name and a string of praises. The first rope of cum lands on the corner of your mouth. Without another thought, you enclose your lips around his tip. His strangled noises spurs you on in your mission to suck and milk him dry.
When he finally slips out of your mouth, the hand underneath your chin guides you up and your knees walk you close to his standing body again. You still haven’t swallowed, unsure what you want to do with the fluid resting on your tongue.
Reading your expression clearly, Jungkook bites down a smile. “You don’t have to swallow, P.” He chuckles, placing a quick peck to your tightly shut mouth, “Want me to get the waste bin?”
He runs his thumb on the corner of your mouth, catching the stray droplet before wrapping his lips around his digit. Honestly, he doesn’t care for the taste and gets your hesitancy, but you hold his gaze and shake your head no, pressing your lips to his. He groans and opens his mouth for you to slip your cum-coated tongue in.
You whimper at his large hands running up and down your backside, ultimately landing on the bottom of your swelled ass. Absolute sin and filth personified when you both exchange and swallow your mixed fluids.
Your body aches differently for Jungkook these days. Can’t believe he’s in front of you now in your home, surrounded by everything you love.
And you love him.
“I love you.” He says, as though all your internal thoughts and feelings are tethered to him. It’s no secret, and unworthy of hiding.
You kiss him again, pulling him down with you. He giggles and shrugs off the rest of his clothing as he hovers over you with starry eyes.
Cupping his jaw, you reply, “I love you. Want this with you.”
The relationship. The love. The experience.
His heart — it’s all yours.
The long dimples appear again, disappearing from view once he lowers his head to kiss your neck all while fumbling on the thin straps of your dress and tugging it to expose your bare breasts.
He's said this before and thinks there’s no greater truth than this, “You’re perfect.” Leaning down, he places a wet kiss on your sternum, mouthing, “so beautiful.”
You keen into his touch, back arching when he takes one nipple in his mouth. He does this for a few minutes, teasing your nipples and rotating between them with equal amounts of love and attention.
Again, the ache runs through your entire body, gathering right at your core when his teeth bites down on your sensitive nipple. Your hand detaches from his hair and makes its descent down to his crotch.
He’s only half-hard, still sensitive from his first orgasm.
Sensing your impatience, he chuckles against your skin. “Gimme some time, P.” Eyes closing as you squeeze around his length again.
You pout, but nod nonetheless, letting go of his shaft because the last thing you want is to do the opposite of keeping him hard.
“But,” he muses, “you could help me.”
And this is how you end up as equally naked as Jungkook on your bed. You’re supported by your numerous pillows as you lay there, watching his eyes jump between your face and closed legs.
His hands are on your knees, soft as he pries them apart to reveal your soaked core.
You instinctively move to cover your mound, suddenly feeling shy even though Jungkook has seen you bare from below multiple times. His bigger hand covers yours, pressing against it just enough for you to feel the relief it brings.
“‘S just me, pretty.” He says, eyes never leaving yours. His words and stare makes you sling your free arm over your eyes, blocking the visual of him: kiss-swollen lips, locks no longer in its styled state, red flush on his chest — a stark difference from the dark, solid ink on one of his arms … you can’t bear to look at him in this state.
Can’t bear him looking at you either.
“I know,” you reply, “I’m just … embarrassed.”
You can’t see him, but you’re sure he’s giving you one of those smiles. One that asks ‘What for? You’re amazing.’
You think about the sheer amount of people who have watched Jungkook — yourself included — and wonder how he isn’t shy. And because of that, you feel yourself growing braver at the thought of giving Jungkook something to watch and appreciate.
Still, you keep your forearm over your eyes, but the other hand covering your pussy nudges Jungkook’s warm hand away. You move up a little. All practiced precision in how your middle finger dips between your slit, rubbing slow circles on your swollen clit.
“Oh, fuck.” He lets out a breathy laugh. Your senses are heightened in this self-visually impaired state; his swallow is heard in the distance.
You think about whether he’s just looking at your hand on your pussy or if he’s watching your covered face — if his eyelids are hooded … if the visual of you playing with yourself is ‘helping’ him. Perhaps it’s these thoughts that also make you grow wetter in between your legs, the wet sounds reach your ears through your staggered breaths.
You feel his lips press on the top of your knee, his breathing also coming out haggard.
“Is this enough?” You whimper, wanting him to take rein of your pleasure.
“A little longer, please?” He begs. “For me?”
He moans at your compliance, noting the speed change in your fingers. The bed shifts too, he nears your body again and you feel his warm breath fanning over your fingers. Suddenly, a dribble of wetness slides on top of your digits and trickles down to the entrance of your pussy, mixing with the rest of your arousal.
The feeling has you removing your arm, finally looking down where he’s at in between your legs. A small playful smile on his lips as he sits back up in his kneeled position. He's more than ready — just wants to see more of you.
You take note of his hard cock in his hand, a slow stroke up before he thumbs at the slit like he likes to. A twinge of pleasure hits your core again and you’re forced to rub harder circles to relieve yourself of the heavy ache building up at the sight. He laughs again, a mixture of disbelief and horniness as the pace on his cock speeds up too.
“So much better seeing this in person.” His eyes involuntarily shut as he tilts his head to the side.
Huh?
The movement of your hand pauses and so does he with widened eyes. He clears his throat, trying to find the words before you ask, “W-what’s that supposed to mean?”
A sheepish smile stretches across his face and instead of explaining right away, he leans over your body now. Nose against yours, he places a tiny kiss on the corner of your mouth.
“Promise you won’t get mad?” He asks, his hand moves yours away from your pussy and slots his cock in between your soaked folds. Meant as a distraction or to ease your worries for his next words, he finds himself breathing heavier at the feel of your bare cunt with his shaft. The head of his cock slips over with ease onto your swollen clit, twitching as he moves his cock side to side now.
“I–fuck–Pix, you’re so wet.” He drops his head to your neck.
You nod, almost distracted as well, but you bring his head back to your eye level. He swallows nervously, wrist slowing the movement with his cock. Jungkook should’ve rephrased his question to ‘promise you won’t get embarrassed,’ because shortly after he slyly recounts the details of Your Video™ popping up in your living room, you lay there surrounded in the flames of humiliation.
“So embarrassing.” You mumble, unable to meet his eyes.
Jungkook giggles, kissing your cheek, “Hey, I liked it a lot.”
You turn your head, nose touching his now, “Did you?”
“Uh-huh, more than you’ll ever know.” His hips shift, resuming the grind on your cunt again. “But I like this more.”
His movements get you worked up again, forgetting about your mortification just moments ago. You whine, whimper, and mew into his shoulder; the ache comes and goes — reminding you need more than just this.
“Jungkook,” You gasp at the taps of his cock against your folds.
“Hm?” Eyes hooded, he watches you through his lashes, mouth dropped open when your hands run down his torso.
“Need you.” You plead, hip angled up so you can press harder against him.
“I know, I know, pretty. Just–” He shuts his eyes, “I gotta get you nice and ready for me.”
He senses your hesitancy again and he stops to stare down at you.
“I-I’ve had sex already,” You say, teeth worrying on the bottom lip and debating if you should say your next words. “With, um, Mingyu. So, we don’t have to prep.” While both unnecessary to tell him and unreasonable to feel this way, guilt courses through your body at the confession.
“Doesn’t matter to me if you’ve had sex.” Jungkook says, “I always want you to feel good and comfortable.” He kisses you, soft just like the fingers he trails at your entrance gathering your arousal.
You swallow, “Are you upset it happened with someone else?”
He blinks, head tilting in confusion, “Not something for me to get upset over, P.” Studying your face, his brows eventually relax as he asks you, “Are you upset?”
You shrug, looking to the side. “It was … whatever.” That’s all you’re willing to say about the experience and you’re sure Jungkook doesn’t want to hear about another man while he’s just about to get intimate with you. At this point, maybe he’d opt out to stopping in general, but he sighs a small hey to gain your attention.
“The experience will always be yours.” He kisses your forehead. “Nobody can take anything from you.”
You nod, eyes closing at the feel of his finger at your entrance. He keeps his lips at your forehead, feeling it furrow as he sinks one finger into your pussy. It’s a slow and leisure pump, easy to have you forgetting about the prior conversation and putting the focus back on him. Penetration has never been your thing; technically, it’s still not. But there’s some relief as Jungkook curls and massages his finger against your walls, stretching you out as he intended to. He refuses to take his eyes off yours, especially when he decides to add in another finger.
“That’s it, baby. Taking it so well.” He praises, voice cracking at the end of the sentence.
“You make me feel so good.” You sigh, eyes closing as he speeds his fingers inside you. “Always feel so safe with you.”
He curses, mentally prepared to hear your choked whine when he removes his fingers from your sopping hole. He says your name sternly, followed by a thick swallow. You hum in response, hips mindlessly chasing after any part of his body for friction. He slots his hard shaft against your wet folds again, giving you both some form of pleasure in the interim. He looks down, moaning at the sight of his cock coated with your arousal.
“Need you inside me.” Your hands hold his waist in place to stop him from grinding against your clit, head of his cock positioned at your entrance. You bubble with anticipation, wondering how he’d feel inside you.
And as much as he’d like nothing more than to finally sink inside, a small part of his lovesick brain still holds some form of logic and manages to utter, “Birth control?”
You blink, a slight falter in your response as you shake your head shamefully. There wasn’t a medical necessity for you to be on birth control before and you didn’t think far enough when it came to intimacy with Jungkook.
He chuckles, “That’s okay, P. I just wanted to check.” He hops off the bed and fishes for his wallet. Another ten seconds go before he drops his wallet onto the ground with a triumphed smile and brings up the small squared package between his fingers. The smile drops a little at the sight of your tiny pout.
Beating him to his question, you remark, “I wanted to feel you …”
He exhales hard through his nose. Keeping the condom in between his fingers, he makes his way back to you on your bed. You both seem to fall back into position again.
“Not sure if either of us are ready for kids, P.” The thought of having kids is scary, but weirdly … he finds the fear lessening at the thought of it with you. Seen how you reacted and smiled around children — he wonders if his future kids would have your smile. Either way, too early for these thoughts.
“Okay, okay,” You let his words simmer a little and he suddenly wants to do away with the little package in his hands when you look up at him. “You’re right.”
He’s right, knows he is when you blink away those irrational thoughts. The same thoughts get pushed to the side when the foil packaging tears and a sweet scent fills your nostrils. This time, hints of rich chocolate and confectioned goodness. You relax back onto your mattress, watching as he positions himself between your legs.
“Do you only have flavored condoms?” You ask, impish smile lifting the awkward conversation from before.
He grins, “Someone gifted a five hundred flavored pack for my birthday last year.” Hint: it was Hoseok. “So … we’re stuck with this for now. Do you hate it? I could stop using them–”
You shake your head and his eyes soften at your answer. There’s relief in knowing it’ll always remain sweet between you and Jungkook.
“I wanna feel you, too.” He admits as he lines himself at your entrance. He doesn’t push in just yet, watching how your hole clenches around nothing … for now. “We’ll figure something out.”
The defaulted option is to simply have you go on birth control, but that’s something to discuss and for you to decide. If need be, he isn’t too opposed to a vasectomy. You both have all the time in the world to discuss.
“Okay,” you stutter as he begins pushing the head of his covered cock in. That’s all he does for now, opting to drop onto his forearms to kiss you, praise you — love on you. You do little to hide the sting, face contorting before you let out a couple shallow breaths.
“Too much?” He asks, hips stalling and fingers brushing away your hair.
You shake your head, “Hurts a little, but,” you lift your hips a little, legs parting to accommodate Jungkook's body. “Wanna keep going.”
He doesn’t move.
Tattooed arm dropped in between your bodies, he rubs practiced circles on your clit. You sigh in content, wiggling your hips to push more of him into you. Eyes fluttering shut, similar to how your pussy flutters and gushes around his length after every little push inside as a reward for taking more of him. He shudders and grunts deeply, mentally counting backwards from a hundred to keep himself distracted by how snug your walls feel around him.
You moan, soft and saccharine at the stretch of his full length inside you.
“You feel so good.” He husks into the shell of your ear. “Feel that, Pix?”
“Yeah …” You keen, unable to verbalize a proper response.
“You gotta tell me how you feel, ‘kay?” He lifts his head up and connects his forehead on yours, but his heavy eyes observe how your lower halves connect.
“M-mhm,” You reply, eyes shutting at the fullness below. “Can we stay like this for a bit? I-It’s … it’s a lot.”
He nods. A part of him is thankful for this pause, allowing his mind to think of other things in the meantime so this experience can be better for you. The other part is worried you’re uncomfortable. He wants to make this good for you — wants you to feel good, so it doesn’t matter how long he needs to stay still inside you. Sex could end right now and he’d be okay with it.
“Kiss me, please?” Your request comes out small, but he feels the harsh drumming of your heart against his chest. Your hands are bunched up on his nape, not relaxed how they usually are when you’re with him.
What else could he do but comply with your wishes?
Kissing’s good — the belief he’ll die on a hill for. Kissing’s even better with you; he loves your lips, the way you lick the seam of his lips, how you sound when you’re being kissed as you deserve. Could stay like this forever with you. The heavy making out goes on for another two minutes, until he unconsciously bucks his hips which forces you to detach from his lips in a loud gasp.
He immediately searches for your face, eyes swelling with concern. “Sorry, I–”
You shake your head, thighs clamping around to hold him still before he pulls out. “‘s okay,” you reassure, “That felt good. Just, go slow.”
The pace he sets out is controlled — slow, as requested. And god, is it good. Your bed creaks with every movement, but the sounds are overshadowed by your shared breathy moans and praises only heard between each other. His fingers move swiftly over your pussy, so love drunk with your body, he feels his balls tightening — a sign of his forthcoming orgasm.
Call it selfish or greedy, he doesn’t want it to end, pulling out at the last second to delay his orgasm. Typically so well-versed in your body cues of an impending orgasm, his own dilemma clouded his judgment when you let out an involuntary frustrated cry at the loss of contact.
Your chest stutters, stomach clenching from your heavy breaths. And although you should question why he did that, you can’t think when he guides his cock into your warm cunt once more.
“You were gonna make me cum again, pretty.” He lets out a breathy laugh, hips resuming its pace.
You whine, “Was gonna cum, too.” You look down where he fucks his thick length into you. He makes up for the accidental edging by rocking his hips faster into you, fingers once again finding home on your clit forces a high pitched squeal from your kiss-swollen lips.
“Yeah? I’m sorry.” He truly is. Your pleasure’s always his top priority — you’re his priority.
“You deserve to cum.” His fingers flatten on your mound, and the wet squelching sounds increase with the fastened movements. “Give it to me, pretty.”
So sensitive and lost in the pleasure, you gasp and arch your body into his, eyes slamming shut at the onset waves of pleasure building below.
“Jung–” Couldn’t finish your sentence before you’re squeezing tightly around him. He doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers, but he stills himself in you, giving you a couple hard pumps while you ride out your sudden orgasm.
He doesn’t think he ever wants to forget this feeling.
Finally letting off your clit and pushing himself up again, Jungkook marvels at the thin sheen of sweat in between your chest and the white ring of cum coated at the base of his cock where the condom doesn’t fully reach.
“Please, need you to cum inside me.” You beg.
He can’t, not with the condom on, but the sentiment makes him act like he doesn’t have one on. Parting your thighs wider, he thrusts in slowly, mindful of your oversensitivity. The ring of cum builds and thickens at the base, transferring some of your arousal over his pubic bone in a messy haze. Alas, the visual combination of your chest moving in tandem with his thrusts, your scrunched brows, and hand on his stomach was enough for him to release once more.
Though, the final blow came from your soft declarations of love while you tell him how good he makes you feel.
“Baby,” He manages, hands dropping your thighs, his front also comes down onto your chest as he lazily pumps inside of you with his cum-filled condom. The pleasure continues in the form of your fingers raking up and down his back, drawing shapes and patterns of love.
You know things will always remain sweet between you and Jungkook — like the giggles, doting questions, and soothing hands as he brings you to the shower. It’s not the hot water you feel on your skin, but Jungkook’s tender kisses and embrace forever etched on your body.
“P, sit still, won’t you?” Jungkook stands behind the tripod, angling the camera.
“You ever consider modeling? You’re a natural.” You say as you sift through the album on the tablet. You’re doing everything to avoid Jungkook’s latest assignment in class. Sure, it’ll be a good headshot update for your business card and website, but you weren’t keen on having your picture taken. It was always better behind the camera.
He rolls his eyes, gentle smile on his lips as he walks over. “Flattery won’t get you out of helping me. You promised you’d be my model for this semester.”
“Camera shy.” You pout. “You know that.”
“I know.” Jungkook chuckles. “I’ll teach you.” Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your lips.
The thing with teaching is that he inadvertently learns as well. Knows it’s also the same for you too. Skills refined, new ideologies unlocked, and discoveries waiting to be explored. He no longer follows a script anymore — no longer feels like he’s boxed in … life is forever limitless as long as he makes it to be.
A shutter goes off from behind capturing the two of you in the frame.
fin.
ending a/n: beta’d by @takeitawaykenny who sat thru my ridiculousness but also entertained it. prologue wouldn’t have existed without her, yall … she rly was brain behind rkivedshots' beginnings on god love u bookie ;__; and @lovieku who’s been nothing but supportive and rode thru my (many) moments of doubt. she was the angel i needed on my shoulder during the makings of my first series and helped shape so much of itf!! couldn't have done this without your guys unwavering love and support!! oceans of gratitude to my two champions 😭🫂
🧚🏻♀️࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ
alas, thank YOU all for joining me on this fun ride. i hope you guys got something out of this whether it be a chuckle, life lesson, or soiled panties, i’m lucky yall stuck with me. to my lovelies who have been here since the beginning and cuties we picked up along the way: i appreciate your trust, patience, and overall enthusiasm for this series — you’re my dream!! i told yall i’d guide us to my desired ending with so much love and care. ain’t no way this couple wasn’t gonna be end game … i just had to make the journey difficult. oop. anyway call me #aftercarequeen 💅
with that said … epilogue? send your thanks to lovieku for convincing me bahaha it won’t come any time soon cuz i have other things i wanna work on, but do not fear … i have something planned!
in the meantime, feel free to send in your reaccs/thoughts for our lovely itf!couple. i’m here for ya just as you’ve been here with me xoxo ♡
this beautiful journey comes to an end 🥹 (almost 😛) i am so proud of you my missie for completing this with the prettiest bow at the top, the most deserved ending for a couple that has meant so much to me, both as individuals and as the perfect pair they make together (FOREVAAA) 🥹
but most of all i am so grateful to this fic for what it has meant to our friendship, how honored i am that i could be part of the process and stick by your side throughout the whole thing, how much it means to me that you found even the tiniest bit of comfort in me as much as i always found the biggest in you 🩷 i am forever thankful to you and the trust you put in me… it makes me so happy knowing i’ve been here to see you get through all the hardships as a winner 🥹 i always knew you would!!! and i will always be inspired by you and your constance and immense talent ❣️
i think there could have been no better way to end their complex and so delicate story, than to be as delicate with their complexities and handling them with such care 🩷 i really loved that they finally allowed themselves to love, to fail, to be !!! this is much more than fanfiction guys… it’s the prettiest, most beautiful tale about love, especially when it comes to self love… jungkookie i’m looking at you i’m so proud of u 😼😼
i love u so much missie and always will, thank u for blessing us with the best work bangtumblr has seen and will see in years 🙂↕️ we truly don’t deserve to be in the presence of such majesty… but i’m selfish and i can’t wait to be there with you through more projects !!! hehe excited for what’s to come wink wink 🩷🩷 SHOW SO MUCH LOVE TO THE FINAL CHAPPIE OF ITF!!!! will see you at the epilogue tho 😛
𓄲 "I like it," she says as she her hand drop back to rest against her leg. When you don't immediately respond enthusiastically she turns to you with a frown. "What?" she murmurs, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children)
⧽ word count ⋮ 9.7k
average reading time ⋮ 55 minutes
── [ ✉️ ] Oh so like, this one actually hit me right in the heart to write. When I told you ladies that the upcoming chapter were going to be very Rayne focused I was more so hinting at this specific one. Each moment is precious to me and one of the scenes here have been rooted in my brain since late February. May this cure your longing for girlhood and daddy issues. I'll be thoroughly disappointed if no one gets at least a little emotional... Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appreciated <3
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chapter 19 — "Dancing Queen"
Rays of orange and pink caress the naked tree branches just outside — the setting sun spilling through the curtains that had been left pulled back to let the last light in. A glowing halo wraps around her head as Rayne shifts on the edge of the bed, her back turned to the window and the beautiful sky.
It was no later than four-thirty pm but as winter break would commence the following Monday there was little for the children to do in terms of school work. Thus you had managed to pull the elder aside for some much needed alone time — for today was the big day — the one you had spent the last few preparing for.
After her birthday party last weekend, Rayne had reluctantly agreed to attend the dance with her father. Though you had only caught a glimpse of their conversation upstairs last Saturday, you knew that it was all Jungkook's doing. The pair had actually spent some time practicing together, with you and Cassian watching subtly from the kitchen as they did.
Friday afternoon was now coming to a close and the seven pm mark crept closer for each passing minute. Rayne's shadow engulfs you where you sit perched on the floor, making it easier to peer up at her through the blinding rays. She wears a solemn expression, her eyes set on the purple dress hanging on the handle of her closet.
"Is this really necessary?"
Her voice is a begrudging drawl of lazy tongue that fills the silence along with the faint shuffle as you stifle through your duffel bag. Choosing to respond with only a brief, "Mhm", you go on to pull out all of the necessities you had brought along: hot rollers, an assortment of brushes and a palette of bold eyeshadows.
And perhaps you were being a little selfish. But growing up an only child you had always begged your parents for a younger sister. Someone to share clothes and bracelets with, to gossip about boys and to laugh late into the night with — to care for her in all the ways you thought a big sister should.
Suppose a small part of you was taking advantage of the brief opportunity that had presented itself within Rayne.
You go about placing all the items in order on the floor, nudging a brush to line up straight with the others before glancing up at the skeptical girl. "This is merely standard procedure, you know." Gesturing toward the lineup of beauty products, you send her a lopsided smile.
There's a moment of quietness where Rayne simply frowns. Her fingers pick idly at the seams of her jeans as her eyes flicker between the eyeshadow and the hot rollers. "I don't know…" she murmurs, her tone uncharacteristically soft, "I don't—", shrugging dismissively, she avoids your gaze, "I don't do all that stuff." She nods pointedly toward the shimmer you had just fished out of your bag, her nose scrunching.
You pause, the round plastic box clutched tightly in your hand as you pull the flesh of your cheek between your teeth. Chewing on the raw and tender skin, you let your attention fall to the items you had just hauled out onto the floor. There was nothing extravagant about them, no high-end brands — in fact most of it had been purchased at the drug store and the hot rollers were second hand.
Brows pinching together, you study the array of brushes. They all got the job done and the longer the silence stretched between you the more obvious it became that the question of quality wasn't the issue here.
"You mean to tell me you don't dress up or anything?" Tilting your head to the side, you regard her closely.
Rayne clears her throat as she shifts her weight on the bed, shoving her hands under her thighs. "No," she mutters under her breath, sending you a small glance through the corner of her eye before scoffing, "What? Am I supposed to?" The inquiry comes out defensive as her gaze narrows into something guarded.
Gnawing softly at your cheek, hesitating at the tone she'd used. It wasn't a requirement per se. Rayne was only eight after all but you still vividly remember sneaking into your mom's vanity at that age — rummaging through her makeup, smearing bold lipstick onto your lips and slapping all kinds of powder onto your face.
"Well…" you start, forehead creasing slightly as you stare out at nothing in particular, "No." Shaking your head softly, you then tilt it back to peer up at her, squinting slightly against the afternoon sun, "I thought it would be a fun thing for us to do together, you know, girl to girl."
Her eyes widen at that, only for a moment before sharpening with suspicion again as her fingers curl around the fabric of her jeans.
"I know that your dad does your hair from time to time," you add after a short pause, "Though your brother tells me that he doesn't do a very good job for the most part."
Rayne actually makes a small sound that could have almost been mistaken for a laugh — the corner of her lip twitching into something just shy of an actual smile. "No," she agrees quietly. "He makes the braids uneven," a small roll of her eye follows, "And it always falls apart by lunch."
The giggle that bubbles from your chest is carefree, as warm as the setting sun outside and you wished she would find it in herself to share it with you. "See?" you muse, tapping the hot rollers in front of you with a grin, "Boys have no idea what they're doing." Cocking her a brow, you add, "Us girls need to stick together you see."
She nods thoughtfully, hands still curled tight around her pants but her gaze has drifted to the eyeshadow palette next to your knee. Beneath the reluctance there was something akin to longing, barely there but still visible if you looked hard enough.
The longer you thought about it the more you came to realize that you and Rayne were not so different after all. Growing up in the absence of her mother with only a father and brother who knew as much about being a woman as a fish did walking on land.
Perhaps you weren't the only one wishing for a sister.
"What do you say we give this a go?" Gesturing toward the array of items scattered across the floor, you glance up at her with a hopeful smile.
A long moment of silence passes until Rayne finally nods, a slow tilt of her head that hints at no enthusiasm but fills you with excitement nonetheless.
Rayne's usually quiet bedroom had never been so lively before. The tidy space had become a mess by this point, brushes and empty plastic packaging leaving a trail to where the two of you sat on the floor. A record player — one you had found within the depths of her closet moments ago — was playing a CD of ABBA, the melody singing through the air.
"Feel the beat from the tambourine," you hum softly, fingers carding through a dark strand of her hair as you reach for another roller.
Having taken out the ponytail that she always wore, you realized just how long Rayne's hair actually was. The dark black was a stark contrast to her warm, honey tinted skin and it reached all the way to her elbows when allowed to flow freely. She had insisted that this wasn't needed and that she should be just fine leaving her hair untouched but you forced her down in front of the mirror.
Placing a bobby pin between your lips, you continue to hum along quietly to the song. "You can dance, you can jive," Twisting the lock of hair up around the warm plastic roller, you pluck the pin to fasten it in place. The rollers were thankfully not hot to the touch but you were still carefully to not hurt her.
Rayne, for her part, sat perfectly still. Her legs were crossed and she rests one hand on each knee as she gazes at her reflection in the mirror. Whenever you looked up your eyes met — you would send her a smile which she did not reciprocate, but she did not look uncomfortable either so you counted the win anyway.
"How much longer?" She asks when you fasten another roller. Her shoulders flexed as she adjusted herself — her straightened back serving as a ridicule to your hunched over one.
Pausing, you lean back to asses your work thus far. "Not long," you note, counting the rollers you had left under your breath, "Five more."
She heaved a sigh at that, but nodded slowly as she allowed you to continue. This was likely the most tedious part of it all but you trusted that the results would be worth it in the end.
As you stuck the bobby pin into the final roll you took a second to scan the product of your hard work. "Alright, you'll need to keep them in for a while," you tell her when stuffing the remaining pins back into their small box.
"They're uncomfortable," Rayne complains, her voice bordering on a whine that was most unlikely of her. Though she doesn't actually look displeased when you catch her face in the mirror. She reaches a small hand up to touch carefully at the roller holding her fringe, lips pursed in contemplation. "Are you sure this will work?" she asks.
You nod, perhaps a little too quickly, "Positive."
The record player jammed slightly between song shifts but a moment later a new tune filled the bedroom, one you did not recognize but still tried to hum along to. "Okay, let's move to the next step while we wait," you declare when reaching for the makeup palette beside you.
Rayne cocks a brow as she follows the movement with her eyes, their earlier reluctance now replaced with curiosity. "What's it for?" She points to the variety of colors, all divided into square sections.
"It's for your eyelids," you explain when scooting over to sit in front of her, crossing your legs as you get comfortable. Opening the clear lid, you show her the different options, ranging from bright blues to deep greens, bold yellows, oranges and much more. "Take your pick!"
She hesitates when the decision is so suddenly pushed into her lap, swallowing audibly when leaning forward for a closer look. Teeth closing around her bottom lip, Rayne studies the different colors closely, some had clearly been used more than others, you were a woman of habit after all.
After a minute's of intense thinking she lifts one finger and points it toward the soft lilac one. "That one," she says with a dismissive shrug, feigning nonchalance as she turns her attention to the floor.
The corner of your mouth threatens you with a smile and you quickly hide it by turning to grab a fluffy brush from your bag. "That one is perfect," you say when dipping the bristles into the color, swirling them around to gather the powder onto them.
Rayne follows the action closely through hooded eyes, pretending not to pay as close attention as she was, though the fact that she had stopped picking at her jeans were a tell tale sign. "Not too much," she murmurs, a last attempt at remarking the entire situation.
"Not too much," you echo, dusting the brush by tapping it against the edge of the palette. Once that was done you straightened up as you held the brush between pinched fingers, "Okay, close your eyes."
After throwing you another skeptical look she does as she's told, her lashes fluttering slightly when she lets her eyes fall shut. In the distance, the music playing fades out as the track jumps to play another song — leaving the two of you in silence as you brush the brush to one of her eyes.
Your touch is careful so to not accidentally poke the corner of her eye with the bristles when you drag them over her closed lid. The warmth of her steady exhales fans across your chin when you lean forward to see better as you dab the lilac powder onto her.
The CD comes to life again but the new melody becomes background noise for all that exists in this moment is you and Rayne. She sits perfectly still and had it not been for the twitch of her brow when you move from one eye to the other one could have easily mistaken her for a statue. The muted purple goes on easily, covering the faint outlines of veins that lay across her lids.
"Keep them closed," you hum when pulling back to dip the brush back into the palette to retrieve more color. Swiveling the fine strands in the lilac once, you bring a steady hand back to apply the second layer — going over it twice made it stick better — something you had picked up during your late teens.
Rayne doesn't flinch when the soft bristles return to her lids and though the corner of her lip twitches, she says nothing as she allows you to continue.
Your heart clenches in your chest the setting sun no longer keeping you warm but rather the girl in front of you. "It's turning out beautiful" the acknowledgement is no louder than the song playing from her desk but given your proximity she definitely heard it.
"It better be," Rayne huffs, even then there was amusement in her voice, the kind that makes you smile without meaning to. And perhaps it was a little selfish for you to linger even the brush no longer held any color and the layer had been spread evenly by your skilled hands — but you wished to linger in the moment.
You wondered if she'd ever had this done to her before. The simple gesture of applying soft purple to her eyelids and having someone run their fingers through her long hair. Judging by her initial reluctance you decide that she hasn't. It makes you sad, a lot sadder than you thought it would.
"Okay," finally sitting back, you tap the brush against the edge of the palette before closing it completely, "You can open them now."
Rayne does just that, lashes fluttering against her cheeks when she blinks, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden invasion of light. Scooting to the side, you allow her room to behold herself in the full body mirror in front of her which she does after some hesitation.
Her palms are braced on her knees when she tilts forward, just enough to catch sight of the purple that now coats her lids. She studies the result intently, tracking her own reflection the same way you remember doing by your mother's vanity all those years ago. Then she slowly lifts one hand, the tip of her index finger lightly touching the corner of her eye.
For a second you're worried that she's going to react negatively. Perhaps she would reject the entire idea again, demand you wash it off and refuse to attend the dance all together. But Rayne simply nods once, a careful tilt of her head that betrays nothing but her quiet approval.
"I like it," she says as she her hand drop back to rest against her leg. When you don't immediately respond enthusiastically she turns to you with a frown. "What?" she murmurs, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
You shrug, "Like what?" Despite your attempt at indifference you could not fight off the grin that curved into your cheeks. It was impossible not to be enamored with her in this moment for she looked so unlike the Rayne you thought you knew.
The crease between her brow deepens and her gaze narrows on you, "Like… I don't know—" she scoffs, "All weird."
Your lips stretched wider at that as you hum, "I just think you look pretty."
She turns her head away when the words register but you still caught the flush that crept its way to her face as she clears her throat. "You're ridiculous," she says, nudging one of the rollers in her hair absently to distract herself from the conversation taking place.
Part of you wants to argue that you were being perfectly serious, the other however, is simply content watching her with the same cheesy grin as she tried to play the compliment off.
The rest of the late afternoon is spent in similar fashion. The disc you had stuffed into the CD player came to an end and the tracks looped back to the beginning as it started over. Neither of you commented on it, and Rayne actually started humming along to a few of the familiar songs — though you pretended not to notice as you smiled to yourself.
You were now in the midst of painting her nails in shimmering purple, one tiny hand resting in your own bigger one as you swipe the brush over her nail bed. The sharp smell of acetone prickled at your nose as it clung to the air between you, but it did nothing to deter your precision as you worked.
Outside the sun had completely set and your only source of light was the lamp, usually placed on her desk, that now stood beside you both on the floor. Its warm yellow hues makes the purple appear almost brownish though you knew you had read the bottle correctly.
Rayne sits quietly, her posture never once faltering as she keeps herself ramrod straight. You had given up the pretense of that since long, favoring comfort as you hunched over her hand. She didn't speak, you didn't either — it wasn't awkward nor tense as it so often would be whenever the two of you were alone, and you even dared hope that things might actually take a turn for the better from this point forward.
You had just finished applying an even layer of purple to her ring finger when a sudden voice cut through Dancing Queen's second run on the CD player. "Are you almost finished? We need to leave soon—" The door is cracked open enough for Jungkook's frame to squeeze through, his gaze falling on the scene in front of him as his brows raise on his forehead.
Though he barely gets to finish his sentence before you're on your feet. "Out!" you shrill, already rushing over, nail polish forgotten about as your hands shove at his chest.
The force you use is enough to make him stumble backward a step and Jungkook frowns as he redirects his attention to you rather than his daughter — who had turned her head to glance at you both over her shoulder.
"You're not allowed in here right now," you say as you usher him back over the threshold he'd dare to cross. His confusion visibly mounts with each passing moment but you ignore it as you shield Rayne from his line of sight dramatically.
Jungkook exhales a sharp breath, "I— What?" His dark eyes find yours, immediately trapping you in place and you feel your heart stutter in your chest when you take in his attire. His hair was neatly combed and styled, as it usually was, but the black tuxedo he wears catches you off guard. Sure you were quite accustomed to Jungkook dressing adequately, the button ups and the dress pants… But this was different.
Your palms are still braced on his chest, the slightly erratic thumping of what could only be his own heart, beating against your right one. He's yet to utter a single word since you so blatantly pushed him out of his daughter's room and you realize that he was waiting patiently for an explanation.
"You can't be here," pulling back a fraction, you peer at him with determination, "This is a girl thing — besides, it'll ruin the effect if you see her before I'm done."
Jungkook cocks a sharp brow, hands twitching by his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach out. "A girl thing?" he repeats in a low drawl, gaze flickering over your shoulder to which you quickly follow up by stepping to the side and blocking him again.
"Yes," you tilt your chin, fingers flattening out the crease your previous roughing up had caused to his tux, "Boys won't understand."
The disbelief on his face grows at that but you allow him no room to speak as you usher him out into the hallway. "Go!" Your command seems to break through the haze and Jungkook blinks once as his attention snaps back to you. His lips part, perhaps to inquire further on the matter though he ultimately seems to decide against it.
He nods, throwing a glance toward the watch around his wrist before exhaling through his nose. "Thirty minutes," he grunts, then he turns on his heel as he heads down the hall, presumably to wait downstairs now that he'd been banished from his daughter's bedroom.
Once he's out of sight you turn back to Rayne with a sigh, letting the door fall shut behind you. "What did I tell you?" Walking over and plopping back on the floor in front of her, you pick up the nail polish as you silently ask for her hand. "Boys don't know the first thing about stuff like this," you muse when dipping the brush into the polish.
Rayne, who'd been watching the interaction silently, said nothing. But you thought you could see the edges of her mouth twitching slightly.
An hour and a half had passed since the two of you first sat down to get started — but you could now finally say that you were finished. Rayne stands in front of the full body mirror, the purple dress falling around her small frame rather elegantly. The sparkly midsection glimmers under the warm glow of the lamp — which had been moved back to its home on her desk.
Her hair, free from the hot rollers at last, now flows in gorgeous waves down her back as you run your fingers through the dark locks carefully. "What do you think?" you ask when parting her hair and moving it over both of her shoulders, letting it spill down her chest where it curled in place neatly.
Rayne remains quiet for a moment. The purple shadow you had placed on her lids did its job in highlighting her dark brown eyes and she blinks slowly as she regards her reflection in the glass. Her cheeks are dusted in warm pink — an addition you had added which made it hard to tell if she was actually blushing or not.
Her fingers find a wavy strand which she curls around the digit slowly. "Pretty," she murmurs in a voice so quiet it barely sounded like her at all. Though the CD player had been cut off when she went to change and you heard the soft admission clearly in the silence of her bedroom.
If you had been able to pry your gaze away from her, you're sure you would've caught the beaming smile on your lips in the mirror. Pretty wasn't enough to even begin to cover it. Rayne was always beautiful — there had never been any doubt about that — but tonight she looks out of this world. You can't help but feel a small swell of pride in your chest at the accomplishment.
"You are." Hands coming to rest on her shoulders, you both continue to regard the finish product of your lengthy session together a moment longer. Both her brother and father were probably waiting rather impatiently at this point, Cassian had been particularly downcast when he'd learned that he wasn't allowed to enter his sister's room. But you were in no rush.
"Oh," you suddenly perk up, "I almost forgot." Letting go of her, you quickly head over to crouch by your discarded bag on the floor. It takes some rummaging, you weren't exactly organized, but your fingers eventually closed around a familiar tube.
Holding it up for her to see, you grin triumphantly. "The finishing touch," you hum when walking back to Rayne who was watching you with a frown. The cheap brand name had since long been smudged, intelligible by this point but the lipstick itself still did its job.
You twist it open, spinning the bottom a few times to get the product out before showing her the soft pink. "Alright." Leaning down slightly, you reach out with your unoccupied hand to gently cup her jaw. "This will only take a second," you assure her, even though the young girl made no attempts at protesting.
Her lips part slightly as you carefully apply the cosmetic on top of them, spreading the color in an even layer — smudging away any excess with the help of your thumb. "Go like this," you say, smacking your own lips together when returning the cap onto the tube and sealing it once more.
Rayne follows your lead, blending the pink slightly in the process. Her gaze flickers between herself in the mirror before returning to you. She doesn't comment on the shade but she also doesn't wipe it off again, which was a success you think.
"Lipstick fades pretty quickly," you say, "So I think it's best that you bring this one with you." Nodding toward the small purse you had allowed her to borrow for tonight, you then place the tube in her hand, closing her fist around with softly.
She tenses at that, brows pinching together as she sends you a conflicted look. "Really?" Rayne asks, the tender disbelief in her voice makes your chest clench and you quickly nod.
"Sure!" you smile, giving her shoulder a tiny squeeze, "If you like it you can keep it, I have plenty more at home." That was a lie. You only had this and a bold red which you reserved for special occasions that rarely came. But the flicker of hope within her dark eyes as they turned to the lipstick in her hand was more than enough for you to willingly make the sacrifice.
Rayne hums, thumb tracing the bottom of the tube reverently. "Thank you," she says, and your breath nearly caught in your throat. It was the first time you'd heard her utter those words in a way that actually sounded sincere. The expression of gratitude takes you by surprise, though she doesn't seem to notice as she continues to study her freshly painted lips in the mirror.
"Of course," you exhale when managing to get a half-hearted grip on yourself again. One glance at the clock on her desk though, makes you realize that time was quickly running out and you spring into action once more. "I'll go downstairs and get your dad and brother, don't come down until I tell you to, okay?"
She gives you a questioning look but obeys with a soft nod, slowly heading over to grab the purse waiting for her on the bed.
You find both Jungkook and Cassian waiting in the living room. The younger was restlessly skipping around while his father leaned against the fireplace with his hands buried in his pockets. They both glanced up at your arrival, heads snapping in your direction like they had been counting down the seconds themselves.
"Nanny!" Cassian exclaims as he scurries over, fingers wrapping around the sleeve of your shirt tightly, "Is she done? Is she done?" When you nod he makes a squealing noise, waving his father over as he tries to contain his excitement.
Jungkook pushes himself off the mantle, joining you a moment later. If he was nervous about the evening then he did not show it — his face resembling a detached mask of indifference, even as you guide them back into the hallway. "Let's wait for her by the stairs," you say, fighting to keep the smirk from your lips.
It takes a while to get Cassian to settle down, the boy looked ready to leap upstairs and you held onto both of his shoulders firmly so to not ruin the surprise. When he finally calms enough to at least stay rooted to the spot you turn your attention to the upper floor.
"Okay, you can come down!" Your voice bounces off the pale walls and is shortly followed by faint shuffling above before silence returns. Jungkook stands beside you, his posture just as rigid as that of his daughter, his nonchalance betrayed only by the way he moved to absently fiddle the black silk around his neck.
Another moment passes — the seconds stretching for what felt like an eternity — until Rayne finally appears at the top of the stairs.
The air inside the Jeon estate shifted in an instant, the anticipation that had been building finally reaching its climax as both her brother and father turn their heads in her direction.
But you're not looking at her. No, your gaze is fixed on Jungkook — who's fingers had gone slack around the tie he'd been adjusting, the action seemingly forgotten as he takes in the sight of his daughter on top of the staircase.
Mesmerized. That was the best way to describe the look in his eyes as they tracked Rayne's careful descent down the steps. The ever present crease between his brows let up, giving way to something much softer — younger. His Adam's apple bobs with his next swallow, lips parted in a silent exhale that looks like its been punched from his lungs.
Rayne avoids making eye contact with all of you, keeping her head bowed as her fingers clutch the banister — the purple shimmer on her nails sparkling under the light of the chandelier.
"Wow," Cassian sounds awestruck, "She looks like a real princess, daddy!" He tugs on the sleeve of his father's tux but Jungkook pays the small boy no mind — he has yet to look away from his daughter.
Finally he gives a barely noticeable tilt of his chin. "Yes," he whispers hoarsely, "She does." He regards her almost longingly, as though he was seeing something for the first time. And when Rayne reaches the bottom step, he's there, one large hand outstretched, his palm open for her taking.
She hesitates, glancing at Jungkook's hand like it was a foreign object before she finally lets go of the banister as her much tinier one is placed in his hold. His fingers close around her own and he guides her off the last step, much like a gentleman.
Her younger brother can no longer hold himself back as he frees himself from your grasp. His arms wrap around Rayne with surprising force, catching both his sister and father of guard, though he is none the wiser as he lets his cheek press against hers.
"My sister is a princess!" He says proudly, the words muffled against her hair.
Rayne finally unfreezes from the sudden embrace and she lifts the hand currently clutching your purse to give her brother an awkward pat on the back.
Jungkook has yet to let go of her, or tear his gaze from her for that matter. You didn't think he would anytime soon and your heart warmed at the thought. "Okay, okay," gently prying Cassian away from his sister, you haul him back against you, "They're going to be late of you don't let her go soon."
He pouts slightly but gives a solemn tilt of his head. "I wish we could go too," he then whines, craning his neck to peer up at you with hopeful eyes.
You simply shake your head, stroking his hair back, "We'll just have our own dance at home, how about that?" The proposal does seem to put his mind at ease and Cassian gives up on harassing his sister for the moment.
"Alright," Jungkook has cleared his throat, still looking slightly dazed as he jerks his chin in the direction of the front door. "Shoes and coat on," he instructs as he lets go of Rayne's hand. She complies without question, the frills of her dress swaying slightly as she heads over to the shoe rack.
Lingering by the stairs, you wrap your arms around Cassian as you watch them both pull on their shoes, freezing when you suddenly remember yourself. "Wait!" The blurted exclamation slices through the air, making three heads turn your way as the entire family sends you a confused look. But before any of them can ask you've released Cassian, already halfway up the steps to the second floor.
You move on autopilot, barreling through the door to Rayne's bedroom as you fall to your knees beside the duffel bag you had brought. God, you really had to start organizing your things, it took way longer than it should for you to find the cool surface of your camera. An older model that you had gotten for your eighteenth birthday after much pleading with your father — a treasured possession of yours.
With the heavy weight of it placed on your hands, you rush back downstairs, finding everyone exactly where you'd left them, all with puzzled expressions. Jungkook is the first to notice the camera you're clutching, brows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak — only to be dismissed by the wave of your hand.
"Stand a little closer," you say when stepping forward, closing one eye as you bring the camera to the other.
The pair hesitates, the young girl sending her father a quick glance before turning her gaze toward the floor. It's not until Jungkook places a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her to his side that a smile finds its way to your lips, "Perfect."
"Big smiles," you chirp, peering at them through the camera as you angle it to capture them clearly. They both frown at the same time, their expressions perfectly mirroring the other and you resist the giggle that bubbles in your chest. "Come on!" Your encouragement seems to have some effect as they both force two awkward smiles onto their lips.
You snap the photo quickly, not wanting to let the precious moment slip between your fingers. The camera flashes brightly and when it's over you tilt it to peer at the results. They look nothing short of perfect — textbook gorgeous yet there was something truly ethereal about them.
Next to you, Cassian as already jumping on his feet as he tries to catch a glimpse himself. "Let me see, let me see," he says impatiently.
Meanwhile Jungkook and Rayne have separated, the former clearing his throat as he reaches for their respective coats. They slip them on silently, avoiding each other's gazes as the sound of clothes rustling fills the hallway.
Once they're both fully dressed Cassian runs up to hug them both goodbye. "Have fun," you tell them when placing the camera down on the dresser. They nod in unison, in sync with seemingly every action. "Make sure he sleeps by eight," Jungkook says as he sends his son a pointed glance.
"I've got it," you hum, arms wrapping around the tiny boy a second time when he returns to stand with you.
His father appears satisfied with that as he unlocks the front door, letting Rayne step out first before joining her. It shuts behind them with a soft click, leaving the behind a silent house and excitement that slowly fades into something more serene.
"Nanny," Cassian says, twisting in your embrace as he peers at you through dark lashes, "Can we take a photo too?"
Jungkook came to the swift conclusion that he disliked the children's school just as much during the evening as he did in the day time — in fact as he and Rayne steps out of the car, he thinks this might be worse.
The ride here, though short, had been spent in silence for the most part. Jungkook had mulled over the dimming headlights that he would need to get fixed sooner rather than later. He'd been pushing the matter back on his agenda as he dreaded the awful and inevitable meeting with Mr. Williams, a man in his late fifties who had a thing for both Jungkook and his car it seemed.
If he had his way, Jungkook would probably ignore the problem for another couple of weeks as he drowned himself in work and holiday preparations. But with the cold and dark winter season the malfunctioning lights were becoming an apparent issue that he could no longer bring himself to dismiss.
Tomorrow, he tells himself as he shoves the keys into the pocket of his tux — the garment far too restricting for his liking, though he did not let it show. There were other matters on his mind right now, like the sound of conversation that floats around him, impossible to block out.
This dance was something he would avoid if he could help it. Only you had been insistent, Jungkook almost groans at the recollection of that night. He should've shot it down again, argued that Rayne would not want to go and spare himself the awkward two hours of interacting with parents whom he knew nothing about. But he found it impossible to deny you, for whatever infuriating reason.
Up ahead the entrance had been lit up. The doors were held open on hatches, a red carpet that felt more like a dare than an invitation rolled out on the ground. He scanned the area briefly, noting the array of fathers, all leading their daughters' by the hand as they headed inside. His throat goes dry at the thought of having to plower through mundane small talk with them.
A chilly breeze draws past, reminding him of the harsh December month and the coats they had left behind in the car. His attention is instinctively drawn to Rayne. She stands beside him, arms folded tightly across her chest as she, too, eyes the entrance with reluctance.
Her hair is picked up by the wind, a few strands gluing to her face, though she makes no attempt at pushing them away. Jungkook studies her silently, he could not remember the last time he saw her dressed in anything other than the plain sweaters and pants she had him purchase for her — if ever.
He did not care much for how his children chose to dress themselves, long as it was appropriate. Yet there was no denying that his daughter looked absolutely breathtaking tonight. He doesn't know what it is you've done, doesn't linger on the matter either. All he knows is that she was the prettiest girl he had ever laid his eyes on.
Rayne startles slightly when Jungkook loops his arm around hers, gaze flickering up to meet his in a way that makes his heart ache terribly in his chest. She glances toward the entrance and back at him, "We can still turn back…", she murmurs.
He finds himself frowning at that. Her hesitation dims the flicker of warmth just as quickly as it had come. It would be easy to nod, to take her home and leave it at that — but his tongue disagrees before his mind can catch up. "No," he says, tightening his grip on her arm, "I want to dance with my beautiful daughter."
She blinks up at him slowly, lips parting before pressing shut again. Though she doesn't respond, she still clings to him in a way she usually wouldn't as she lets him lead her inside. Jungkook decides then that this night would be worth the painful social interaction that waits beyond those doors and that he would endure it as long as it meant making her happy.
It's hot inside the school, suffocatingly so. Bodies crowd the hallway, purple lights leading them all the way until to a much more open area. Judging by the tables and chairs pushed against its four walls this had to be the cafeteria. Balloons in all shades lilac are stuck to the ceiling and the pillars that held it up. Lanterns in the same color occupy the tables, next to a few of them large bowls filled with what he presumes to be punch sits.
In the center of the room is a makeshift dance floor, already filled with fathers and their daughters. It was barely past seven yet music was already playing and a good dozen pairs had already taken to dancing. Above, a large chandelier hangs, its soft yellow glow contrasting the purple theme of the entire ordeal.
Next to him Rayne shifts awkwardly, her eyes swiping across the room quietly as she chews on her bottom lip. Jungkook tries to think of something to say that would soothe her nerves, perhaps his own as well, but before he gets the chance to, the bruising noise of microphone sparking echoes through the room — a slightly hoarse yet cheerful voice follows a second later.
"Hello everyone! We welcome you to Oakridge Preparatory's thirty-fifth annual Daddy Daughter dance!"
Jungkook glances over to the improvised stage across the room. A wooden structure that makes him question how they had even gotten it inside in the first place — perhaps it had been built on the spot. His gaze drifts to the old woman standing on top of it, immediately recognizing her as the principal — Mrs. Fig.
He'd met her briefly when enrolling Cassian, the encounter had been stale and unpleasant — she talked too much for his liking but right now he wishes she would go on a while longer so to prolong the inevitable.
Mrs. Fig adjusts the round glasses that sit on the bridge of her nose before continuing: "We've prepared music seeing as the band couldn't make it this year…" she trails off before clearing her throat, "There's punch as well, please help yourselves and remember to have fun!"
With that she disconnects the mic sending another jarring jolt of electricity through the room, cutting the speech far too short for Jungkook's liking. The music is turned up a moment later, a song he recognizes, Every Breath You Take he thinks it might be called.
Pairs of fathers and their daughters start filling out the dance floor, easily falling into step so naturally in the way Jungkook knows he will never be able to replicate. His hesitation lasts only a second, then he's moving forward, legs carrying him with determination he didn't even realize he had.
Rayne stumbles beside him before catching up, brows furrowed deeply as she glances up at him. "What are you doing?" she asks as she lets him lead her through the crowd of people.
Jungkook shrugs, "Dancing." He comes to a halt when he finds a spot he deems suitable, forcing his shoulders to relax as he guides her hands to his forearms. She allows it, albeit reluctantly, skeptical eyes swiveling around the room once more before finding their way back to him. "Just like we practiced," he says as he begins to move.
They had spent long nights in the living room, awkwardly stumbling over each other's feet and Jungkook mentally cursing himself for actually preparing for this evening. Their latest attempt yesterday had been pathetic, he hadn't said that of course, but he'd thought it. Right now? Everything seemed to click into place.
He didn't consider himself a good dancer — never had. Ten years ago he wouldn't even have entertained the idea of doing something like this. And yet, as he watches his daughter under the warm lights, yellows and purples mixing onto her face, the small furrow of concentration etched to her features, he cannot imagine himself to be anywhere else.
The tip of her shoe accidentally nudges his and Rayne glances up at him sheepishly. Jungkook simply shrugs, pulling her along as he twirls her in his arms. The purple dress you had gotten her sways around her legs, Cassian had been right in saying that she looks like a princess, he thinks.
The room around them fades until all he can see is her. His daughter. Dark brown hair falls unevenly down her shoulders, the soft pink that dusts her round cheeks and the way she bites her lip as she focuses on getting her steps right.
Rayne had always reminded him of her mother — the woman he'd spent years loving. And though Jungkook doesn't blame himself for what happened, he hates himself for the mistakes he's made with his daughter, he probably will for the rest of his life.
She had her mother's face but she was undoubtedly him in every other sense. Sometimes he found himself frightened by the stark similarities they shared. He did not know how to handle them, how to handle her. But he vows there and then to try his best, for Rayne.
The evening passes relatively calmly. Dancing was not as bad as he'd initially thought and after a few songs they found themselves by one of the tables serving fruit punch. Rayne stayed close to his side, and though she did not know it, her presence comforted him just as much as his probably did her.
There were a few others before them, two fathers chatting happily with one another, though Jungkook would rather sink through the ground than have to engage in their conversation. He's content to stand quietly beside his daughter, keeping their arms looped together despite the risk of them getting separated was slim.
Just as the others clear out and Jungkook reaches for the ladle in the punch, a voice he recognizes with dread pierces the comfortable silence he and Rayne shared.
"Mr Jeon!"
He doesn't have to turn to know who it is, he does anyway, just to be polite. Ms Song approaches their table with a smile too wide, too friendly, it doesn't feel genuine. You would never smile like that. Jungkook shakes the thought as quickly as it had come, fingers curling a little tighter around the cold metal handle.
"It's so nice to see you here," She says when tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The dress she wears feels far from appropriate for a setting like this, low cut and figure framing in a way none of the other teachers' were.
Jungkook gives a small tilt of his head and has half a mind to ask what she was doing here. Last he recalled she did not have Rayne in any subject. But Ms Song is already turning to his daughter, leaning down to come eye level with her, in turn making her chest spill out of her tight dress and Jungkook averts his gaze with a quiet scoff.
"You must be Cassian's big sister," she says as she extends a hand, "I'm his homeroom teacher."
Rayne eyes her outstretched hand warily but ends up taking it. Ms Song shakes it gently before letting go and straightening back up, seemingly unfazed by their lack of response. She turns back to Jungkook, and he feels awfully distracted by the vibrant color on her lips.
"I honestly didn't expect to see you tonight, but it's such a nice surprise." Her tone is light, a pitch too high, betraying her obvious interest in conversing with him.
Jungkook tries to think of an excuse to have them both leave before she gets the chance to bombard him with prying questions about his life, though the cup he holds in one hand and the ladle filled with punch keeps him rooted to the spot.
Ms Song is not oblivious to this, unfortunately, and she nods in the bowl's direction. "I heard the punch is supposed to be good," she says as she flashes him an expectant smile.
Pressing his lips into a firm line and biting down on his tongue, Jungkook fills the cup before handing it to Rayne who takes it with a small 'thanks'. Then he reaches for another, repeating the process, all the while Ms Song's invasive eyes continue to linger. He extends it toward her without a word, ignoring the way she leaves her fingers on top of his a moment longer than necessary when she takes it.
"Thank you," she hums as she brings the cup to her lips, letting them wrap around its rim and taking a sip. Her lashes flutter when she bats them at him and Jungkook wonders if it's given her a headache yet — one could hope.
She lowers the cup and it looks as though she's about to say something else when the sound of another man's voice suddenly interrupts her. "Ms Song!" He's weaving through the crowd, the hair on his head a mess. Jungkook doesn't recognize him but judging by his lack of a child, he thinks he must be another teacher.
"The music is doing that thing again, it keeps breaking up and Mr. Brown doesn't know how to fix it…" He trails off when he notices both Jungkook and Rayne, giving a polite nod before turning his attention back to the woman between them.
Ms Song heaves a sigh, the subtle roll of her eyes not going him unnoticed as she sends Jungkook an apologetic glance. "I'll be right there," she calls out, painted nails digging into the cup. "I hope to see you around tonight," her voice has an uncomfortable lilt to it and Jungkook responds only with a small hum.
The second she takes her leave he feels his shoulders slump, exhaustion washing over him as a result of the brief yet painful encounter. He silently decides to thank whatever mighty power above had caused the interruption and steered her away from him.
"She likes you."
Rayne's blunt remark pulls him from his thought and he turns to her with a frown. "She does?" He questions back, caught off guard by how observant she was being.
His daughter simply nods, still sipping on her fruit punch as her gaze travels across the room. "Girls do that when they like someone," she explains after another gulp, "They make excuses to talk about stuff with you, even when they don't actually have anything important to say."
He feels his forehead crease even further as he considers her response. Making excuses to talk to him? His mind immediately wanders to you and he tries to think of any instance in which you had done the same.
He remembers the awkward conversations you had steered him onto whenever you were alone, usually in the kitchen after the children had gone to bed. Jungkook never found them to be insignificant, he quite liked hearing you talk.
"You don't like her do you?" Rayne asks, she's watching him over the rim of her cup, distracting herself with small sips. It was unusual of her to ask questions like that — especially regarding a topic such as this.
Jungkook shakes his head, "No," he muses. He did not like Ms Song, perhaps ten years ago he would've, she seemed like the type he went for back then. But he is not the same man he was a decade ago, and for that he was thankful.
"Is it because you like nanny?"
His heart might as well have sank to the bottom of the ocean when her words registered. For the first time since the two of them left home, the silence that lingered felt anything but comfortable. He briefly consider just outright ignoring her, to pretend like he hadn't heard the uttered words in the first place — but he knows he cannot.
He turns to her, avoiding looking her in the eye as he takes the half finished cup of fruit punch from her hands. Rayne doesn't protest, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she watches him.
Bringing the cup to his face, he peers down at the liquid that swirls inside — taunting him into delivering the answer waiting on his tongue. Jungkook inhales through his nose, the sweet scent of fruit filling his senses, it's almost too sweet.
"Yes."
It's all he says before bringing the cup to his lips as he takes a long sip. He prays that his daughter won't catch the tremble to his fingers, the white knuckled grip he holds on the innocent plastic cup — hard enough for it to crack.
But Rayne says nothing, letting her gaze return to the crowded room as she watches her peers dance with their fathers. Despite the music — now playing smoothly again thanks to Ms Song — it's quiet where the two of them stand.
Jungkook busies himself with the fruit punch for as long as he can, which isn't long at all seeing as he was downing the sickeningly sweet drink in big gulps. Once the cup is empty he's left staring at it like it held all the answers to the mysteries of the universe.
Beside him, Rayne shifts her weight from one foot to the other and when he dares to drag his attention over to her, he finds his daughter opening the purse that rests by her side, held together by a thin strap. She reaches a hand inside, pulling it back a moment later, this time cradling a small, black tube.
He studies her as Rayne twists the cap off, spinning its bottom a few times. It's only when the soft pink appears that Jungkook realizes it was a lipstick she held. Her lips part and she applies it carefully onto them — once she's done she smacks them together before repeating her earlier ministrations and sealing the tube again.
"Where did you get that?" He asks, his voice coming out hoarser than he had intended for it to. Jungkook bought everything she asked for — which wasn't a lot. He would've known of a lipstick in her possession.
Rayne hums, placing the cosmetic back into the purse before sealing it tight. "Nanny gave it to me," she pauses before adding, "She said I could keep it."
Jungkook nods slowly, his eyes lingering on the purse a second longer as he recalls the way you had shoved him out of his daughter's bedroom earlier that afternoon — the frantic look on your face as you kept him from stealing as much as a glance at his own child.
He turns back to the fruit punch, filling the cup once more despite the drink tasting horrendous. Though he had spent a good half an hour trying to figure out why he wasn't allowed in her bedroom during the process of her getting ready, he'd later come to the conclusion that he would forever remain clueless.
Must be some of that girl stuff you were talking about, he thinks to himself as he takes a small sip.
By nine pm the dance came to a close as tired children clung to their dads who carried them out of the building. Despite the event being a brief two hours — Jungkook already knows he would rather take a twelve hour day at the office. He does not think he's ever felt as drained as he did when he got into the drivers seat to pull out of the parking lot.
After their conversation by the fruit punch, Rayne had not mentioned you again, nor had she brought up the confession he had made without thinking his answer through even once. In fact she had asked to dance again — taking him by surprise but Jungkook had not denied her as he offered his hand.
Their second try out on the floor had gone even smoother. No more stiff shoulders or stepping on toes. Rayne had even smiled as he twirled her around, a shy, barely-there curl of her lips but Jungkook had caught it under the dim lights and he treasured it close to his heart.
The late Friday night left the streets nearly vacant and as he drove the car to a stop by a red light, he glanced at Rayne in the rear view mirror.
Her lipstick was smudged from an additional two cups of fruit punch, the waves in her hair diffused as a result of her hands running through the strands. She hadn't spoken a word since he'd turned on the engine and Jungkook understood why when he caught sight of her shut eyes. Head propped up against the window at an awkward angle, Rayne slept soundly in the backseat.
She would rarely — if ever — doze off during car rides. He thinks the night must've left her twice as exhausted as him.
The light ahead turns green pulling Jungkook's attention to the road. His fingers drum softly against the wheel and the hand he keeps on the clutch reaches up to shut the radio off.
Rayne had yet to wake by the time he pulled up in their driveway and he sits silently with her for a minute or two before forcing himself out into the cold. The December air is harsh and unforgiving as he quickly rounds the car to carefully pull her door open. Thankfully secured by her seat belt, Rayne's head simply lolls to her shoulder when she's robbed of her makeshift pillow.
Jungkook moves efficiently, leaning over her to unbuckle the leather that held her in place before draping both his and her coat over her bare shoulders. Then he lifts her from the seat slowly, trying his best not to jostle his sleeping daughter as he knocked the car door shut with his foot.
He can't remember the last time he'd carried Rayne in his arms. It had to have been years for she was not nearly as affectionate as her younger brother. The weight of her in his arms and the warmth of her body still makes his heart beat a little faster — the same way it had when he'd first gotten to hold her that day at the hospital eight years ago. He leans down to bury his nose in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her — his daughter.
When he rounds the front of the car he pauses, the headlights give a weak flicker before going dark again and Jungkook sighs. Tomorrow, he tells himself before heading for the front door.
── [ ✉️ ] So like, surprise Jungkook POV ahah... I feel like a lot of people were expecting OC and Cassian to tag along for the dance but I felt like that moment specifically needed to remain between Jungkook and Rayne alone, especially given what she asked later, cough... Anyway, please let me know what you thought, I would love love to hear it <3
title: effortlessly
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (poorly written, don’t come @ me)
words: 4.5k
warnings: this chapter contains smut.
a/n: i wrote this on wattpad like months ago (unfinished) but i was kinda sad bc you can see the view count so i decided to finish it here and spruce it up since tumblr lessens my insecurities lol also, i decided to make this my first series (a five part(?)) series!!!
note: jungkook & reader are 18+, seniors in high school.
series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue
“Alright, pick your partners!” Your P.E. teacher exclaims, clapping her hands to quicken the students’ pace to get started. Jungkook beams at you with a smile before giving you a nudge into your arm. “Let’s be partners, it’ll be more fun this way!”
“Okay, okay,” You unwilling agree, crouching down before falling on your bottom. You bend down and motion Jungkook to hold down your feet so you can start doing the sit-ups. Leaning over, he sits on his knees then wraps his soft, gentle hands around your ankles. “Go.”
Oddly enough, this wasn’t the first time when you began to notice things about Jungkook that made him seem… more and more like a man. It was so strange – he’d been your childhood friend, so in your eyes, he was still that innocent little boy who played house and leap frog with you outside in the backyard. His shirt was snug around his arms that were flexed from holding down your ankles, hair ruffled from the wind blowing, and his jawline was especially sharp in comparison to the roundness his head was in his younger years.
You gulp. Hands crossed over your chest, touching your shoulders, you move your upper body up and down continuously, trying to avoid his gaze. “Why are you looking away, weirdo?” He chuckles, head tilting in confusion. “Uh, no reason.”
“You’re not afraid that you might accidentally kiss me, are you? Like we’re in some k-drama?” Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you in the midst of a set. “What?” Your head shoots to his direction.
summary; a disney enchanted!au, where a cynical divorce lawyer’s life is turned upside down when he sees you hanging from a disneyworld billboard. looking for your prince, you shake up jungkook’s life by warming his life and warming his heart. disney cliches, harsh realities and animal sidekicks ensue
pairing; divorce lawyer/dilf!kook x princess!reader
genre/warnings; fluff, crack, angst, dad!koo, modern fantasy au, fairy tale au, jungkook’s a hot dad but a hot mess, this is absolute chaos, humor in its worst form, sexual exploration, smut in the form of female masterbation in the flowery-est way possible, virgin!reader, a whole lot of disney puns
w/c; 11.6k
a/n; thank you thank you thank u for yet another supportive and loving year. im happy to end of the year with ever ever after, and to start the year off with ever ever after! bonus points if u find all the disney references! happy new year all, stay safe and stay sweet
jungkook x reader (f): established relationship, they are madly in love your honor
wc: 2.6k
cw: pregnancy talk, mutual masturbation
Your date nights usually end in nasty sex, but tonight, Jungkook has something else in mind.
Despite living under the same roof, it was becoming practically impossible to see your own boyfriend. The amount of stress you were both under at work was simply inhumane, and by the end of the day, you’d both be so tired that the only joint activity you could do lately was passing out on the couch after dinner. While it was somewhat cute to encourage each other to hang in there a bit more, days were turning into weeks, and weeks were turning into fucking months now. The tasks to complete never seemed to end, and it finally caused Jungkook to snap really hard one night.
“FUUUCK this entirely!” he slammed his laptop monitor close, giving you a horrible start. “I’m taking you out tomorrow night and that’s it! I’ll punch your boss in the face if he bitches about some deadline again.”
“But baby, I really need to fini—”
“Did I fucking stutter? Don’t make me come into your workplace and fuck you in front of everyone, ‘cause I’ll do it,” he threateningly pointed his finger at you. “Tomorrow night. You’re dolling up for me, we’re spending the shit out of some quality time, then we’re fucking each other’s brains out. Is that clear?”
“Sir, yes sir!” you aggressively saluted him.
You were dying of guilt as you were getting ready the next day, still thinking about some spreadsheet to complete, but one thing you had learned throughout your entire relationship with Jungkook was to never doubt him. He was right—unless you made time for each other, there was always going to be some shit to deal with, and in the grand scheme of things, jobs were temporary but soulmates were forever. You were in dire need of being in each other’s meaningful company for an extended period of time, and you needed it now.
It was around 2 a.m. when you came home from an incredibly pleasant date, fully satiated, and almost trampling each other in the hallway for how much you were laughing. Jungkook fished for his keys in his pockets and turned to you, slightly slurring.
“And the grand finale the audience has been waiting for,” he finally managed to put the key in the lock. “This is where we fuck.”
“Stop it, I’m swooning,” you batted your eyelashes at him with a super deadpan voice. “Dude, at least try to put the moves on me!”
“Shit, we were supposed to do the tap dance first, weren’t we?” he cleared his throat and asked extra cornily while wiggling his brows. “Wanna come in for a nightcap, beautiful?”
“I don’t know. You seem to be the type to fuck and bounce,” you looked him up and down.
“Then let me rephrase,” he pulled you close from your waist. “Come in for a nightcap.”
“I don’t wanna put out on the first date.”
“Oh, you’re gonna,” he whispered into your ear. “I eat pussy on the first date.”
You burst out laughing and kissed each other, not giving a shit whether you were disturbing your neighbors or not. While you did have an amazing time, you were longing for comfort, so you immediately darted to the bedroom to get rid of everything that didn’t fall under sweatpants couture.
“Wanna try something different with me tonight?” Jungkook appeared behind you with a glass of water in his hand.
“Ooh, Jungkook’s Favorite Things,” you cheered while taking off your earrings. “What do we have on the menu today, sir?”
He placed the sweating glass on the vanity table and put his cold hands on your shoulders.
“I did something some time ago without asking you.”
“Oh my god, did you really get that slutty Santa costume? That was a joke!” you widened your eyes, utterly scandalized.
“First of all, I love you, but not even if you give me the best head known to mankind,” Jungkook unclasped your necklace. “Remember the night we got high?”
Your cheeks instantly started to burn because that night was… something else.
Like many other couples out there, you and Jungkook would also experiment in your bedroom every now and then. The act in question wasn’t the problem; it was actually one of the vanillaest things you’d ever tried.
It was the fucking talk throughout the whole thing, and just thinking about the aftermath made you want to disappear.
“Can I choose not to?”
“Well, you can’t because I recorded it,” Jungkook suddenly declared, holding your gaze in the mirror.
“You have permanent proof of it?!” You turned round, absolutely mortified, and held your head in between your hands. “God, this is so fucking embarrassing!”
“You came so hard when I called you mommy last week, but this is embarrassing?” he kneeled in front of you, not being able to help his teasing laughter, and earned himself a not-so-gentle slap on the arm.
“You know what you said to me in the middle of sex.”
“And you agreed if my memory serves me right.” The more flustered you got, the wider his grin grew. “Very enthusiastically, if I might add.”
“Yeah, no kidding! Now you know why I’m not watching that shit, Jungkook.”
“It’s just sound! So what if you came hard to that?” he held your hands and kissed them. “I find it really cute.”
“You also find tarantulas cute,” you scoffed and jumped to your feet. “Look, I’m not some marriage enthusiast or anything, okay? It was just—”
“Shh.”
He stopped you from spiraling with a soft kiss on your lips, instantly pacifying you on the spot. His hands were on your waist as if you were slow dancing.
“You know how much I love your body, right, baby?” he slid the back of his hand down your cleavage. “You know how bad it turns me on when you touch yourself to me.”
His lips found their way to your neck, leaving a feathery trail down to your collarbones, and your eyes instinctively closed as you leaned into his touch.
“You know how much I love making you feel good,” he softly spoke into your ear, “but I know my place. You know your own body better than I do.”
He was soothing the burn that rose from the pit of your stomach all the way up to your cheeks. Every kiss was like drops of ice-cold water, making sizzling sounds as they dripped on your skin, and it was turning into something much more pleasant.
“I want you to touch yourself listening to us,” he guided your hand under your dress. “And I wanna jerk off watching my girl. No touching each other.”
Well, damn, okay, you spreading in front of Jungkook and fucking yourself while he wasn’t allowed to do anything besides self-pleasure?
That sounded hot.
“I can, right?” he asked, but he was already making you walk backwards towards the bed. When you nodded with his lips within yours, he got visibly excited. “I promise it’s much hotter than what you make it out to be in your head.”
You brought out your go-to massager as Jungkook connected his phone to the speaker on your nightstand. You were a bit tipsy, but you still felt self-conscious as if the times you saw each other naked throughout the years did not significantly outweigh your clothed appearances. He dragged the zipper of your dress down while softly kissing you, and you unbuttoned his charcoal black shirt in return.
He tasted like the ice cream brownie you shared at the end of your dinner.
“Close your eyes now,” he kissed the tip of your nose and lay you down on your back. You weren’t sure to what extent you were ready to relive that night all over again, but…
Oh well…
Then he pressed play.
“...won’t remember. Come on, it’ll be fun!”
“You want us to have sex faded as fuck?”
Jungkook’s voice instantly filled your ears and extracted a soft giggle from your throat. Courtesy of the auditory aid right next to you, the night actually started replaying behind your eyelids like you were watching a tape. You could see everything clearly. It was in this very room. Jungkook was in his boxers, to the left side of the bed, and you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt. You would jump him fully clothed as it was, but the semi-erection he was flashing between his sprawled legs made you want to misbehave so bad.
“Even if we fuck for like five minutes, it’s gonna feel like hours. I wanna know what that’s like.”
“You’ve been asking for a lot of things lately, you know?”
“Stop bitching, Kookie Monster.”
A shriek was heard from the speakers, followed by peals of laughter. That was the moment Jungkook tackled you and trapped you under his frame.
“Wanna make out for hours first?”
You listened to the wet kissing sounds that accompanied your hums and grunts. You could practically feel Jungkook’s touch on you. It did feel like you made out for an hour straight that night, and even though you were burning alive with lust, you remembered how cozy and safe it felt in his arms. Between his lips. Under his body like nothing in this world could possibly harm you.
You started caressing yourself.
“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I get to touch you sometimes.”
The kisses were interrupted by the rustle of sheets caused by Jungkook moving you closer to the nightstand for reasons you didn’t know back then as well as clothing being discarded. For a short while, all that was heard was your heavy breathing and his soft kisses traveling further down your body.
“Jungkook…”
Then the wet sounds morphed into sheer pornography in your ears. Jungkook’s tongue fluttering on your clit, loudly slurping on your entrance, open mouth kisses all over your folds, his saliva dripping everywhere… Your fingers weren’t even close to enough anymore, so you finally turned on the massager and pressed it on your clit.
“Would it be the worst thing if I became your baby daddy? We’re gonna hold your legs up like this so that it holds.”
You started fondling your breasts to the white-hot memories of him pressing your legs all the way back to the headboard and eating your pussy like that for god knows how long.
The present-day Jungkook, on the other hand, was drooling over your sigh, squeezing the last drops of his sanity to keep his composure while trying to pace the rhythm of his strokes to match yours.
“You best believe my oral fixation is gonna get so much worse when I finally knock you up.”
“How much worse can you get?”
“A lot worse. You’ll be my breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I’ll follow you around and latch onto your pretty cunt every chance I get. I heard creampies in bred pussies taste so much more delicious. We’ll test that hypothesis.”
It was right at this point that he started obliterating you. Bringing this up out of nowhere and relentlessly holding onto it because how could he not when your body was this responsive to him? You were throbbing hard in his mouth, and the down-bad talk was not helping one bit. You increased the intensity of the vibrations and started teasing your entrance. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing getting louder right next to you, and he was trying so hard to resist the urge to throw that goddamn toy to the side and fuck your wits out himself.
“You can come visit me at work if you crave me too much. Just barge into my meetings or whatever. I’ll stop the world to eat my pregnant wife’s pussy.”
Fucking embarrassing the way this was happening for the second time. You were reacting as violently as you did then, loudly moaning at what he just said, and started fucking yourself fervently. Seeing how you were clenching to tighten yourself, Jungkook immediately picked up his pace to sync his rhythm to you.
“You like it that much, huh? Your taste changed.”
“Stop that.”
“You taste like my future wife all of a sudden.”
“Stop saying that!”
“I fucking love it when you can’t even wait for me to come home. Teasing me the whole way back. Getting me hard in public. You love having this chokehold on me, don’t you?”
“Jungkook!!!”
He was grunting and moaning into your pussy as his fingers slithered inside, stimulating the spongy texture you loved so much to his heart’s content. The pressure inside you was building to an unbearable level as you tried to replicate the exact same feeling, curving the massager a little upwards so that the tip would press on the same spot.
“Come closer,” you begged him, panting. “I’m not gonna touch you. Kiss me. Just kiss me.”
As if he was waiting on standby, Jungkook immediately started devouring your lips, kissing you so hard that your lips were getting swollen.
“You like that, baby? Right here, isn’t it?”
“God, I’m so close. Don’t fucking stop!”
You knew what was coming after this. Part of the reason you wanted Jungkook on your lips was so that he wouldn’t see your face because you were sure as fuck burning up like you were running a fever.
But very much in vain.
“Open your eyes,” he urgently spoke. “Look at me.”
You could hear how fast he was pumping his cock into his fist, squelches eerily reminiscent of what he sounded like when he sank into your pussy.
“Marry me. Be my girl even after death do us part.”
“Y–Yes…”
“Will you marry me?”
“YES!!!”
That night, you’d squirted on Jungkook’s face at the precise moment you heard that question. He didn’t even give a shit about how messy it was and just kept on fucking you until he got his own release. You had never seen something more erotic in your life than watching your cum drip down his cheekbones like beads of sweat.
When the sounds coming from the speaker stopped, your volume started getting louder. Jungkook couldn’t hold back anymore and came right on your clit, thick strings of cum slowly dripping towards your entrance. He carefully pulled the massager out of you, threw it to the side, and sank his fingers into you instead, just like that night, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you with your clit throbbing in his mouth.
“Almost… Almost… FUCK!”
You relived that moment in the exact same magnitude, this time looking right into Jungkook’s eyes. Your fingers were sinking into your palms, your toes were dangerously curling to the point of spasm. Your entire body was convulsing like he was running kilowatts of electricity through your body. It took a while for you to come down, but Jungkook made sure your soul stayed intact, placing kisses all over your face, whispering little ‘I love you’s on every spot he left a mark on.
“Can you grab me some tissues, baby?” he eventually asked you.
You were so beat that you reached for the entire tissue box on the nightstand to your right in complete slow motion. When you turned back around, you saw the beautiful man you were madly in love with holding a black velvet box open, eyes glinting with pure adoration for you as brightly as the diamond inside.
“Will you be my girl even after death do us part?”
this is a oneshot, there is no part two.
but if you're interested we can have a kooktober because i have a whole set of this idk let me know i guess.
